The Given Circumstances
by Hannah Lily Potter
Summary: How will Fred and Hermione's relationship grow in the circumstances they've been given? Set after the War. A Marriage Law Fic.
1. Chapter 1

It happened on the first of October, 1997. The end of War just months before, the Wizarding World was barely recovering. There had been a lot to do. A Ministry to rebuild. A generation of children scarred. A group of young adults, suddenly finding themselves having to be normal adults and not warriors, in a world not quite ready for that.

The new Minister for Magic arrived at the Burrow that fateful, crisp October morning. Kingsley Shacklebolt came in person, to deliver the letter that would change all their lives forever. He seemed regretful as he handed Arthur Weasley the letter to read out to the household at breakfast.

"Dear inhabitants of this Wizarding House," Arthur paused, looking also to Harry, Ron and Hermione who had long since moved out to Grimmauld Place. They were at the Burrow whenever time allowed them to be, but they didn't live there officially.

"And you three." Arthur ad-libbed, smiling weakly. "Due to the unpleasant circumstances in which the War has left it in, the Ministry of Magic has been left with no choice but to issue the Happiness Decree. This was a plan set for after the first war, but delayed until it was completely necessary. That time has come." Arthur paused again, paling. His ears tinged red, alerting those at the table who did not know of the happiness decree that something was wrong. "Surely not, Kingsley?"

Kingsley sighed heavily.

"What is it, Dad? What's the Happiness Decree?" Ron asked, frowning.

"It was... a plan to match up all single men and women between the ages of 18 and 30, in order to encourage happy, normal lives after the war." Arthur informed grimly, to the shocked faces of his children, Harry and Hermione.

"Now, Arthur. I know this is hard to accept, believe me we've tried everything else. This is the last option we have. The economy is about a knut from collapsing and the Ministry can't get any actual work done until something changes in the economy." Kingsley explained, wringing his hands. He was clearly unhappy about the decision, but brought some good news to the table. "But that was the old law, anyway. We've altered it now. It's only for those between 18 and 25. We thought if people wanted to get married they'd have done it already by the time they're 25. And people aren't going to assigned partners either. They can choose their own... but the Ministry needs some idea of who and when they'll be marrying by Christmas."

Silence rang out at the Weasley breakfast table, for likely the first time ever. Seeing as 80 percent of those sat at the table would be effected by this new law, they were all in understandable shock.

"I am very sorry about this, to all of you. This is only a last resort, you must understand. We don't want to control lives. As soon as the world begins to even out again, the law will fall from place and you can divorce if you wish."

Kingsley declined staying for breakfast, being the busy man that he was, and bid farewell with one final apology. There was still a great deal of dismayed faces at the table, besides Harry and Ginny who were so hopelessly in love it was a wonder Harry hadn't proposed already.

Finally, when the silence became unbearable, Molly clapped her hands together sharply to attract the attention of her brood. "Right. All of you, bugger off and find a space to be alone. Think over what you've heard and then we're going to have a family meeting in exactly half an hour." she announced and the table sprung to life. Ron was the first to jump up, practically running from the Kitchen up to his bedroom. Ginny headed out to the Orchard, followed not too inconspicuously by Harry. Fred and George got up together and, ignoring their mothers wishes completely without even pretending to do otherwise, walked out into the garden. Percy wasn't present, having a house and fiancé of his own. He had it all covered and nothing to worry about. Charlie was abroad still, and so exempt from the Law. Bill was again, not present, as he and the pregnant Fluer Weasley were at their own little home on the coast.

Hermione, with no place to really call her own at the Burrow, followed the twins out into the garden, despite the chilly October winds, but walked down to the pond instead and sat on the damp grass, staring at her distorted reflection in the rippling water.

Despite the anger she wanted to feel, Hermione only felt sad at the situation she found herself in. It wasn't the Ministry's fault and they all knew Kingsley would never have implemented this law unless he thought it would work. The problem was, who would want to marry her?

There was no denying, Hermione was very inexperienced at dating, let alone being a wife. She'd dated Victor Krum in her fourth year, but she'd been 15 then and told herself repeatedly that it didn't count. How could a few clumsy kisses compare to being a married woman. She reminded herself that whoever she ended up with, she'd have to sleep with to consummate the marriage. That was such a daunting idea for someone so... unpractised in love.

For a long time, Hermione had told herself that she loved Ronald. It seemed as though there were meant to end up together, but when they had kissed during the Battle of Hogwarts a little voice had popped up in her mind and told her no. It was just wrong. Ron was not the man for her and, as she soon found out, she wasn't the woman for her.

After the Battle, Ron had ignored the subject of their kiss completely and ended up back in a relationship with Lavender Brown for a months or so until he found the nerve to dump her again. That was the final straw for Hermione. She could see, then, that Ron would never make her happy. He was a friend, but not her true love.

The only problem was that Hermione was then left with no-one she wanted to marry. Or, at least, no-one she'd ever considered for marriage. Hopefully she could be paired up with someone she trusted, perhaps from school or the Order of the Phoenix. That way things would be much easier and less stressful, until the law was out of effect and they could divorce.

"Who'd want to marry you?" Hermione whispered at her reflection, sighing at her wild hair whipping her face in the wind. Not even the kindest soul on earth could tell her that she was beautiful. Hermione admitted she wasn't foul looking. The Yule ball had proven that. But the effort to make herself look that good had been too much. Besides, that had been before the war. Now she had an appalling scar on her arm and post-traumatic stress disorder that even she didn't want to deal with.

"Hermione? It's time."

Hermione tugged her long sleeves down, realizing she'd been absently trailing her fingers over her scar. Ginny was calling her from the front door. With a heavy heart, she stood and made her way back to the Burrow.

As she entered, the house, Hermione realized how cold it had been outside and shivered; kicking off her shoes. The kitchen was emptier now, Arthur left for work and Molly stood at the head of the table. Hermione took the last remaining seat opposite Harry and the clan all looked to Molly expectantly.

"Right then. Who'd like to go first?" Molly asked simply, flicking her wand at the windows behind her so that they slammed shut.

There was a long pause before Harry finally coughed and sat up a little straighter. "Well, uhm, as you know- Mrs Weasley, I love your daughter very much and well, this isn't really how I'd planned to propose but I'd be honoured to marry her even if there wasn't a law." He stumbled and tripped over his words, but at the end of it he was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek from Ginny. The younger girl's smile lit up the whole room, her brown eyes sparkling happily.

Mrs Weasley beamed, mimicking her daughter. She swept around the table and hugged the pair, clasping their hands together happily. "Oh congratulations. Oh, I'm so happy. Ginny, Harry. Wait till your farther hears. He'll be delighted!" This continued on for a long while, Harry and Ginny both pink in the face.

Hermione sat across from them, feeling happy for her friend. He deserved to end up with the woman he loved. Unfortunately, that didn't solve her problem.

Eventually, George coughed loudly to regain his mother's attention.

"Oh, of course, sorry dear."

"Not at all mother." George rolled his eyes.

"We have all the time in the world." Fred continued dryly.

"If the world is going to end in two months." George added bitterly.

"Which it might as well be doing." Finalised Fred.

They were, of course, referring to the deadline that Kingsley had set for the Marriages. Hermione frowned inwardly. She'd been so worried about herself that she'd almost forgotten everyone else had to marry as well. Fred especially was not one for commitment, he'd always made that clear. Then again, so had George until he fell for Angelina.

"Now, now boys. We're all going to take this one step at a time." Molly reprimanded them softly, understanding their anguish completely.

"Well, I guess I'll have to speak to Angie then." George sighed heavily. "But we never intended to marry, really."

George was sent away by his mother to write to Angelina Johnson, his long time girlfriend, and Harry and Ginny followed him awkwardly- simply as an excuse to get away.

"Who's next?" Molly prompted. "Ron?"

Ron shrugged. "Hermione, I guess." He said lazily and a sudden rage built up in the pit of Hermione's stomach.

"_Hermione, I guess_?" She repeated, viciously. "Were you going to consult me on this, Ronald, or just ignore me until the big day." She added sarcastically. The nerve of him! To even think about suggesting they marry.

"Alright, alright. Calm down. Bloody hell, Hermione." Ron said, somewhat alarmed at Hermione's behaviour as he sat straighter in his chair.

"No, I will not calm down." Hermione said, outraged. "You had your chance with me and you blew it on Lavender Brown. TWICE. So go and _guess_ if she'll take you back."

"Oh, come on Hermione. You know that was an accident..." Ron attempted to say, but was cut off promptly by the three venomous glares of Hermione, Fred and his mother.

"Ron, I'm going to say this once and only once. You are my best friend and I'm sorry for snapping but I cannot marry you."

Ron's ears tinged pink and he nodded, dejectedly. "I get it. Now would probably be a good time to tell everyone that I'm actually dating Padma Patil then."

Ron was promptly beaten out of the room by a collection of cutlery, thrown in his direction. When he was gone and only Hermione, Fred and Molly remained, Hermione lay her head down on the table and tried very hard not to cry. How _dare_ he. Just because she didn't love him like that any more didn't mean that him toying with her emotions didn't hurt. He was such a pig sometimes. If only he could stop being so... Ron.

"Don't fret over Ronald, dear. He never understands what he's missed until it's too late."

"I don't care, Mrs Weasley. Let him marry Padma. I feel sorry for her, if anything." Hermione sighed into the table. Frankly, she didn't need this stress right now. There was so much going on in her life and trying to find someone to marry in two months had never been on the agenda. She had a job in St. Mungo's and a flat to find and a whole bookshelf of books she'd intended to read before she even thought about getting into a relationship.

"Too right." Fred inputted and Hermione could imagine him grinning wickedly.

"Now Fred, why don't you get in contact with that lovely Alicia girl who came for lunch that time?" Molly suggested cheerfully, trying to get back on topic.

"She's married mum. Can we not do this now. I'd really like to just not think about this for a little while..."

Molly accepted reluctantly as the rest of the Weasley's began re-entering the Kitchen. Noise soon picked up as Harry and Ginny spoke excitedly about their plans for the future. Angelina flooed in around lunchtime to talk to George, as did Padma who apologised to Hermione on Ron's behalf. Some of Hermione's anger dissipated when she saw how tame Ronald was around Padma. Perhaps she would be good for him.

Hours had passed before Hermione began to get bored of Wedding talk and slipped, unnoticed from the room. She decided to go for a walk in the extensive garden again, just to get some fresh air and clear her mind. If all else failed, she could always move into the muggle world or move abroad but that was definitely a last resort.

Stepping out into the chilly garden once more, Hermione's eye was caught by the vivid, red hair of Fred Weasley sat by the pond with his feet dangling in the cool water. Intrigued by his morose expression, Hermione decided to pay him a visit.

…...

Fred's POV:

I didn't mean to be short with my mum earlier this morning. To be honest, I was just trying to get used to the fact that sooner, rather than later, I'm going to be married. I've never really thought about getting married. I always figured, if I did find a girl who could put up with me, then we'd just work things out. Never, in a millions years, did I think I might not get to do that. Honestly, I'm just angry that the Ministry are interfering- despite their good intentions.

It's alright for George, he has Angie. And it's not that I'm not happy for him, because I am. But I'm only 20. Not exactly ready to settle down. Even if I was, there's no-one I've ever really thought about settling down with.

I'm broken from my thoughts as Hermione approaches, walking slowly across the garden to meet me. She looks as confused as I feel, her chocolate eyes wide. It must all be very infuriating for her as well, and at least I don't have to put up with my git of a brother. Ron's behaviour was bloody sickening, and that's coming from family! I don't know where mum and dad went wrong with the kid, but thank god Ginny didn't get it too.

Hermione doesn't speak as she finally reaches the pond and sits opposite me, pulling off her shoes with nimble fingers and lowering her feet into the murky water, her painted blue toes disappearing into the depths.

"You managed to escape too?" I ask after a moment, referring to the busy and excited 'family' get-together happening in the Burrow. All my siblings and their respective partners, all competing over who's going to have the best Wedding. It's pathetic, considering the law has only been in place for one morning. It seems everyone else has accepted the new law easily but I know there's not a chance in hell I can until I stop worrying about the poor bugger who'll end up married to me.

Hermione leans back, her hands supporting her petite frame. "I wasn't escaping, Fred." She scolds me lightly, for referring to my family like that. I grin at her in reply. "I just came out for air and saw you here, being very unlike yourself. Are you alright?" Her tone turns from annoyance to concern, her forehead wrinkling into a frown.

"Me?" I repeat, grinning. "When aren't I?"

She gives me a look that tells me I haven't fooled her in the slightest, and my smile fades.

"Alright. I'm not alright. Just thinking about this stupid law." I admit with a heavy sigh, kicking my feet in the water petulantly so that a load of ripples scatter across the water. "It's been 6 hours and I feel like my life's been turned upside down."

Hermione smiles weakly, her sad eyes a stark contrast. "I know the feeling."

Yes, I remind myself, she does.

"I'm sorry about Ron, 'Mione. He's a prat. Hopefully Patil will find a nice tight leash for him." I say and she laughs a little. I know I'm doing an awful job of cheering her up, but I can't quite find the energy to say anything more than how annoying my little brother is.

"You can say that again." Hermione reaches her hand into the water, her fingers dancing on the surface. As she reaches forwards, her sleeve is tugged up and the bottom of her scar is revealed before she can tug it back down again. I look away as she yanks her hand back up and hides the scar she hates so much.

"Do you remember the Quidditch World Cup? When we had to run from the Death Eaters?" I ask her, and she looks up at me with knowing eyes.

_We had been running for the longest time, but the screaming didn't seem to be getting any quieter. The fires raged around us, threatening to envelop us all. The ground beneath our feet was uneven and swamp-like, littered with the tents and camp-fires that had been abandoned in the panic and confusion. It was like running an obstacle course and if you tripped or paused for even a moment, you were in the greatest danger. _

_We all were. _

_So much for a fun outing. The World Cup had been pretty fantastic up until the point when the Death Eaters had attacked. Dad and Percy had disappeared god knows where and we'd been separated from Harry and Ron. But we couldn't stop. The boys normally got into tricky situations and came out alright. What mattered was making sure that we all escaped, safe and unharmed. _

_We were making our way to the forest, but it was tricky. I was following George, who's hand was tightly linked with Ginny's – thank Merlin. If we lost her, there's no way we'd be able to go home. Forget the Death Eaters, mum would murder us in a far more excruciatingly painful way. _

_I was trailing behind, attempting not to lose Hermione, who seemed far more agitated that I'd have expected her to be. Surely she was used to dangerous situations by now? That had to be one of the negatives of being best friends with Harry Potter. _

_Before I knew it, Hermione had paused and I had continued running. I turned on my heel and raced back to her, my heart pounding in my ears; louder even than the screaming. Hermione was screaming for Harry and Ron, which came as no surprise honestly, but as the Death Eaters continued to march through the destroyed camp site, we really had to move. _

"_Hermione! They're probably in the woods already! We can't stay here!" I implored, tugging her arm. She shook her bushy haired head stubbornly. _

"_Just wait a minute! They could be in the crowd!" She said with an air of forced calm. I gritted my teeth. That crowd had not even a glimpse of red hair in and no lightening bolt scar either. They weren't there and the crowd were over taking us quickly, leaving us as the only ones left on the site. _

"_Hermione!" I repeated, forcing her to look at me. "I'm a blood-traitor and you're a muggleborn! We're not exactly on the best of terms with Voldemort's followers!" _

_Hermione rolled her deep brown eyes, in a very Hermione-ish way. "Yes, and the boy who lived and his best friend are?" She retorted sarcastically. _

_I snorted, despite the situation we were in. I appreciated her dry humour. It was more subtle than my own and sometimes much more effective. _

"_Alright, Granger. Let's just go." I replied, smiling wryly and offering her my hand. She took it, somewhat tentatively, and we set off again. _

_The run was considerably shorter to the Woods now and we could see Ginny and George a little way in, beckoning to us. We headed to them, our hands still tightly wrapped together. It was both comforting and a reminder to run, which we did- until we reached the outskirts of the forest. _

"_What now? Do we just wait for someone to come?" Ginny asked, merely slightly breathless after the long run, which only showed how athletically fit the fourteen year old was. _

"_No way." I said sharply, trying desperately to catch my breath and eyeing the camp site and the fires that we'd just avoided. It had been too close a call in my opinion. "God knows what's coming."_

"_What about dad?" George said quietly, linking eyes with me. It was probably the first time we'd both decided to be mature in public, which was peculiar. Though, I decided then was as good a time as any. _

"_Dad will manage and we can't just wait here. They're Death Eaters, Georgie, hiding in the woods won't work." I told him, my voice raising over a new batch of frightened screams. _

"_If only they were scared of trees." Hermione remarked lamely, earning herself another sharp laugh from me. She was on fire. _

"_I say we apparate then." George declared, agreeing to our idea. "I'll take Ginny, you take Hermione?"_

_I nodded, only just realizing I was still holding Hermione's hand tightly. Despite the chill, her hand was a warm source of comfort and she hadn't seemed to have noticed our close proximity. _

"_What do you mean, apparate?" Hermione asked, aghast. "You're don't have a license!" She added, horrified by the very idea that George and I could even suggest breaking the law. I couldn't help but grin at her attitude. It was so very... Hermione. _

"_You don't say?" George smirked wickedly. "Hermione, we've been at this rule-breaking thing for a while now-"_

_"-We know what we're doing." I finished for him, turning to the girl at my side. She looked very pale in the dark. Her eyes were wide, both in fright and lack of sleep. "Trust me and I'll get you home safely." I told her softly, as George and Ginny took a step away to apparate. There was a crack as my siblings left and then it seemed as if the woods were empty, save for Hermione and I. _

"_Okay. But if you splinch me, I'll hurt you." Hermione replied after a second, her worried expression cracking into a small smile. I grinned back and took her other hand, focusing intently on the Burrow. _

_The second we made to apparate, the Death Eaters reached the woods and we were shot at by nearly twenty red lights. None hit us, as far as I knew, but they were enough to distract me momentarily._

_Therefore, upon reaching the Burrow I realized there happened to be a lot of blood over my shirt. I stared at Hermione, trying to work out where she was hurt and then promptly collapsed. I felt my knees hitting the concrete of our path and I heard a final scream. One which was far more painful to hear than any of the screams in the camp site. _

"When you splinched yourself?" Hermione asks, her voice almost inaudible. It had been Hermione's scream I heard as I passed out that night. She'd asked me not to splinch her and so I'd done the very opposite, slicing my chest open from my collarbone to my hip, in varying degrees of depth.

"Yes. I still have that scar. I see it all the time and sometimes I hate myself for letting myself get distracted, for screwing up that bad. As much as we like the joke otherwise, scars aren't much of a turn on as they say. Georgie got lucky with Angelina. Anyway, the point it- no matter how much I hate this stupid scar, I know that me splinching myself was what got you to safety."

Hermione nods, not meeting my gaze for the longest of moments. "I know." She says finally, her voice quiet as if she's about to cry. "I'm not ashamed of being muggleborn. I could whip any purebloods arse at anything I wanted, if I wanted." She bites her lip before continuing. "But every time I see it, I remember _her_ standing over me and torturing me. I was so weak. I couldn't stop her. I actually _begged_ her to stop. Some Gryffindor I am." Hermione is actually crying now, trying to stem the flow of tears before they join the water at her feet.

"No, Hermione. You are a Gryffindor. You're one of the bravest people I know. You got Harry Potter through a war! Let's face it, both he and Ron would be dead many times over without you."

She lets out a watery laugh, looking up so I can see into her teary, brown eyes.

"It's been 5 months and I still don't feel any better about the War. Everything is good now. I have my parents and a career and everything I could want. But I still can't sleep for nightmares and I still feel so lost. And here I am, hours after a life changing law, sitting with my feet in a pond and crying about the past. I'm so sorry Fred." She laughs, rubbing her eyes furiously like her own tears have offended her.

"Hey- Don't worry about it. And that life changing law? You have months to deal with that. I'm always here if you need to talk, 'Mione."

Hermione leaves not long after that, visibly shivering from the cold. I stay sat out, my feet dangling in the pond. All this time, I had no idea she was still suffering like that. I should have guessed really, because she's not alone. Ginny told us that Harry still gets nightmares. George does, about the night he lost his ear- though they're very rare and they don't trouble him as much as they used to. Hell, mum still has nightmares about the first War so Hermione is perfectly normal.

I'm lucky. I don't get nightmares. I do, however, have insomnia. It's normally that I wake up very early. If I'm having a good day, I'll get out of bed and go do some experimenting with potions. If I'm having a bad day... I just lay in bed and think over all the things I _should_ be having nightmares about. Sometimes it's the World cup. Sometimes its the Ministry of Magic where Sirius died or the night that Dumbledore died. More often than not, it's the Battle of Hogwarts and that wall is falling on me, trapping me forever.

I'm glad Hermione calls me inside before I lose myself in my thoughts any further. Apparently it's time for dinner and everyone is saying.

The dinner moves out into the garden, seeing as though the kitchen isn't big enough. With a whole bunch of heating charms around us, the long table goes something like this: on the left is Harry; Ginny; Angelina; George; Audrey; Percy; Bill and then on the right is Fluer; Charlie; Ron; Padma; Hermione and an empty chair, with Mum and Dad on either end. Mum always sat close to the kitchen so she could get up as she needed to, whilst Dad always sat close to Hermione or Harry to learn about whatever muggle items took his fancy.

I take the empty chair beside Hermione and across from Harry, listening rather than talking as I dish myself up some food. Dad is asking about the muggle way of growing plants, unaware that they do it exactly the same as we do. Having never really paid attention in Herbology, Harry splutters for a moment before Hermione steps in and kindly explains that there is no difference, other than the fact that Muggles use something called 'science' to determine when plants are at their best. It's oddly fascinating listening to Hermione explain the process. She has a much nicer voice than Spout. If Hermione had been the teacher, I probably would have passed Herbology. It's not that I don't know the stuff, I just had no motivation back then.

"Fred? Are you listening to me?" My head snaps from Hermione to Ginny, a blush creeping onto my face.

"Of course, my darling sister. I was just imagining what it would be like if I'd lost the ear instead of George." I improvise, flashing her a charming smile. She rolls her eyes, seeing right through me, and smiles wickedly.

"And if your eyes were constantly fixed in the direction of Hermione?" She mutters under her breath, earning herself a kick under the table.

"Watch it, Potter-to-be." I retort quietly, but she merely smiles at me. That's the problem with Ginny... she's too much like George and I. She's clever, mischievous and downright wicked when she wants to be. Other than that, a first rate sister.

"You might like to know, sweet brother of mine, that Hermione is staying here for a week or so. Aren't you, Hermione?" I glared daggers at the back of Ginny's head as she turned to Hermione who, up until then, had been _thankfully_ absent from our conversation.

"Aren't I, what?" Hermione asks, confusedly.

"Staying here this week." Ginny prompts her.

"Oh, yes. I'd suggest we switch places if Fred weren't here." Hermione winks at Ginny who giggles and I cough pointedly, though I'm not really annoyed. It looks as if Harry and Ginny are going to be married soon anyway.

"No, go ahead. Then I'll get you all to myself, Granger." I reply, smirking with all the grace of a Slytherin. My words have the desired effect as Hermione blushes pink and looks away.

I stick my tongue out at Ginny whilst Hermione isn't looking and my baby sister glares at me. If she wants a battle, she's going to get one.

* * *

Okay. There you go. I don't know if this is any good, at all but that's for you to decide. If you would like me to continue, I imagine this will be a good few chapters. There will be a hint of plot but it's nothing majorly mind-blowing or intricate.

I was writing something else with a Fred/Hermione pairing which was a lot harder to write so I thought I'd give myself a break and go for a nice easy marriage fic. I hope it isn't boring and un-original.


	2. Chapter 2

I should mention that I don't own any of this or make any money at all.

* * *

It's been four days since the Happiness Decree was announced and hours since I went to bed. Neither of these things are connected, but the decree is the first thing that pops into my head as I wake. Momentarily pushing those troublesome thoughts away, I lift my head from my pillow to check the time. My hand reaches under my pillow for my wand and I swiftly illuminate our old room. We're staying here whilst the Flat above the shop is renovated for George and Angelina. It's very likely that I'll never move back into the flat. I'll have to find a place of my own with whoever I end up marrying. I don't mind much, because George is really the manager of the shop so he needs to be as close as possible.

It's half past two, a mere 4 hours since I fell asleep. Wide awake, I jump silently down from the top bunk so as not to wake George, and trot out into the hall. This whole floor is silent, but I can almost hear Ron's snoring from the floor above. Avoiding the creaky floorboards as I make my way to the stairs, I try to imagine how many times I've walked this path in the dead of night. Over a hundred. Hell, over two hundred. It's always better at the shop because I can just go down into the basement and blow things up, but at the Burrow I'm forced to sit around and quietly await dawn.

Just as I'm about to descend the stairs, I hear a sound in the silence that I haven't heard in a long time. Hermione crying. I could tell it was Hermione, because she was trying desperately hard not to cry and it was definitely a girl. If it were Ginny, she'd be howling and I know from experience. Ginny rarely cries anyway. Then again, I remind myself, neither does Hermione.

I've seen Hermione crying five times exactly in the 9 years we've known each other. The first time was the morning I woke after being splinched. She cried and told me _'When I told you not to splinch me, I assumed you'd have the sense not to splinch yourself either!_'. Which I've always remembered because I was in agony, and she still made me laugh. The second time was in her Fifth Year after the Battle at the Ministry. I don't know exactly why she was crying, as I never asked, but I could take a fair guess. The third time was in her Sixth Year when Ron was poisoned. She sat by his bed for the longest time, tears just trailing down her face. She never said a word until that moron, Lavender Brown sauntered in. The Fourth time I saw Hermione cry was at Dumbledore's funeral, though that was no surprise. Everyone was crying.

The last time I saw Hermione cry was the other day, when she was crying over the past.

You might think I'd feel comforted by the fact that I'm alone in my suffering over the War, but I don't. If anything, I feel worse as I stand at the door of their room, waiting for Ginny to wake the hell up.

After a long minute of debating with myself, I finally turn the handle and slowly enter the dark room. Hermione sits cross legged on her bed, cuddling Crookshanks closely. Even in the dark I can tell her eyes are puffy and her body is fighting back sobs furiously.

"Hermione... What's wrong?" I ask quietly, closing the door behind me and taking a few tentative steps into the room. I immediately notice Ginny's bed is empty but decide to ignore that for the time being. I get the feeling that me murdering Harry won't help Hermione feel any better.

"Nothing, Fred." Hermione whispers in reply, her voice thick with tears. "I'm sorry for waking you. Go back to bed."

"Ha. Not if you paid me, 'Mione." I tell her shortly, sitting opposite her on her bed without awaiting permission. She wipes her eyes quickly, letting her cat down to pad around the bed between us and curl up into a ball. "Now, tell me what's wrong or I'll be forced to ask you where the hell Mr Potter has taken my sister on a dark, cold night like this." I grin, to assure her I'm kidding, and she giggles a little.

"It's really nothing. I feel silly. It was just a nightmare."

I look up at her, my grin fading rapidly. "When you refer to a nightmare as being _not_ being the worst thing that could happen to you, then you know that you've known too much pain in your life. You know?"

"I think I know?" Hermione smiled, baffled by my word choice.

"What I mean is," I sigh, "Oh, I don't know. Do you want to talk about it?"

Hermione smiles again in the darkness, brighter than it has been yet. It sends a warm, fuzzy feeling into my stomach that I blame on the late hour. I refuse to accept that it has anything to do with how ridiculously cute Hermione looks, with her plaid pyjamas on and her curly hair in a messy bun atop her head.

"No. I want to go downstairs, make a cup of tea and eat biscuits." She replies mischievously, fiddling with some loose strands of hair.

I grin a grin to match her own and jump from the bed immediately, causing Crookshanks to bound off in the opposite direction, hissing violently.

"Now, that I can help with." I tell her, swooping in a low bow and extending my hand to her- ignoring Crookshanks pointedly. Who was he to steal all Hermione's attention?

Hermione takes my hand, it's warm and soft, and I pulled her from her mattress. We're out of the room in no time and down in the kitchen, waiting patiently for the kettle to boil. Hermione hums as she makes the tea and so I distract myself by looking out of the window out onto the pond where we had our conversation a few days ago. The sky is close to black and littered with stars.

Hermione must have finished making the tea because she says suddenly.

"Did you like Astronomy at school?" Her voice is soft and genuinely intrigued, but my answer is remarkably lame. I find it very tricky to put on the theatrical show for Hermione that I do for everyone else; maybe because she's always crying when we speak.

"No." I turn my back to the window, taking the cup of tea from Hermione. "It's like, when we were kids, George and I loved tricks and prank objects so much. But we always had to find out _why_ they worked and _how_ they worked. When I look at the stars, I don't have that urge to find out why or how. I don't care where they are in relation to other things or how many moons a planet has. As long as they're there to look at every night when I go to sleep, I'm happy."

Hermione nods vaguely and for a short moment I swear she's going to burst out laughing at my stupidity. Instead, she smiles past my shoulder up at the sky.

"I like that idea. I'd like something in my life to not be so complicated, you know? After the War and everything. I just... Shall we sit down?"

It's an abrupt change in subject, but I agree and we move into the much warmer living room where the fire is still glowing amber. We both sit on the couch, facing opposite the dying fire, in a comfortable silence. I wish Hermione would open up to me a bit more but I can understand her reluctance. There are some things that I can't even talk to George about, never mind anyone else. I guess Hermione hasn't even got anyone to be quite as tight as me and George are. I know she cares for Harry, but from what I've seen theirs is a more 'Listen to my advice and thank me later' relationship, in which Hermione always seems to be the advice giver.

"Are you a light sleeper, Fred? I was trying to be quiet but you still woke up." Hermione says after a long while; our tea's are almost half gone.

I swallow my sip, shaking my head sadly. "I wasn't asleep, Hermione. I always wake kinda early. It's when I'm most creative." I tell the honest truth for once, and it feels peculiar. Hermione still doesn't seem to believe me though, biting her lip.

"Is that your way of saying, 'I have trouble sleeping?'" She asked me, turning her head to mine and arching her eyebrows. I grin, my face inches from her own. The light of the fire is catching her eyes, making them glow spectacularly.

"You have about as much chance of me answering that as you telling me what your nightmare was about." I tell her, cheekily. I force my head to turn back away, purely for dramatic effect, but I suddenly feel very aware that I can't see her face any more.

"Fine. I dreamt the same dream I have every night. It's Bellatrix torturing me." My head turns so sharply back to Hermione that I'm scared I've broken my neck. She's the one staring ahead now, but her resolve is strong and she's not crying. I'm strangely proud of the girl I once knew as nothing but 'Ron's friend.' "But instead of helping me... Ron and Harry are stood there, laughing. Harry has vicious red eyes like Voldemort and then you're all there- apart from Ginny. You, George, Charlie, Bill, Fluer, Harry and Ron- you're all just laughing at me while I'm screaming for help." Hermione swallows, still not crying. "But then Tom Riddle appears with Ginny and he's controlling her and he makes her carve that word into my arm."

The house is completely silent and, for once, I can't think of a single word to fill that silence. How can she live with that every night? How can she face us all every day? I silently determine that Hermione Granger is the bravest person I have ever met. Very few people could suffer through that for months and not let a sign show that they needed help. I would know.

"'Mione... We would never... you know that?"

"I know." She forces a smile but it doesn't reach her eyes. "It's just a dream. Some nights it doesn't even bother me any more. Some nights I want to scream. But everything gets better with time." She tells me knowingly and, without thinking, I reach an arm around her and pull her into a one-armed hug. To my utter surprise, she leans into me and sighs.

"You deserve a whole world of Medals, Hermione Granger." I tell her, squeezing her a little.

"I know." She replies softly.

* * *

The next thing I know is the sunlight streaming into the living room and the amused looking face of Ginny. As my eyes adjust to the light, I quickly gather that we must have fallen asleep because Hermione is sat bolt upright beside me with wide, groggy eyes. She's pink in the face and I don't know why, until I realize there's a cold patch on my chest were her head had been just seconds before.

"Sorry." She mumbles, wiping her eyes with the sleeves of her tee. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."

"You and me both." I reply, slowly sitting up. I don't mind that we fell asleep, although I do mind that Ginny caught us, but I'm confused. I haven't been able to fall asleep at such a random time in forever. Normally, if I'm not in bed by 10 then I have no chance of sleeping. How did twenty minutes talking to Hermione tire me out to the point that I actually fell asleep again.

"Excuse us, Ginny." Hermione smiles at my sister and stands, beckoning for me to join her. I follow her out, ignoring Ginny's smirk pointedly, and we make our way up the stairs. It must still be early because Ginny is always one of the first up. It's a trait that both she and I got from Mum. We're very light, very organised sleepers. Unlike all our other siblings who could dose for England. In the privacy of the sleeping house, Hermione continues with whatever it was she wanted to say. "You know, you never did tell me why you were awake."

I laugh, shaking my head. "I think I owe you that much, considering Ginny's going to be tormenting you for days for sleeping with me." I wink at her, secretly delighted at the pink that floods her smiling face. "Although, it does sound like bullshit now." It's true. How can I tell her I have insomnia when I just slept most of the night through. I sound like a right moron. Hermione pauses before we reach the second floor and sits on the last step, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"I don't believe you'd lie to me for a second, Fred Weasley."

The certainty in her voice is almost shocking. I always figured I come across as nothing but a liar. I'm a pranker, it's what I do.

"Alright." I sigh, sitting on the stair below her and leaning my head back against the wall. "Ever since I was about... I don't know, 17...18? My sleep pattern has been less than ordinary."

"Nightmares?" Hermione asks, her eyes wide and doe-like.

"No." I shake my head, laughing purely because I'm nervous. "I think in the beginning it was insomnia... but now it's gotten to the point where I just find it easier to sleep at odd times. I go to bed on time and then wake up early in the morning. Get a few hours of work done and then go to bed at seven. Get up with everyone else at 11- lazy buggers they are."

"Why did it start? You were 17 when we were in fifth year... why then?" Hermione asks me, frowning so that her forehead furrows in her usual adorable way.

"It was a combination of things really. Stress over getting the shop started, fear of Umbridge- everything that happened at the end of the year. V-voldemort being back officially. It was just a rough year, I guess."

"Yeah." She smiles wryly. "I remember it well."

We both sit in silence for a minute, listening to what sounds like Mum getting ready for the day. "Well," I declare. "We're even now, 'Mione. We both know about each other's scars-"

"We both know what keeps the other awake at night." Hermione continues for me, smiling a little. Her eyes flick over to mine and I can no longer blame the butterflies in my stomach on tiredness. It's purely the perfect, deep brown orbs and the woman they belong to making me feel like this.

"We both know how gorgeous I am." I add, grinning mischievously.

"Sure." She giggles, rolling her eyes. "And vice versa, of course." I grin, but I don't trust myself to reply. Hermione soon changes the subject however, coughing intently. "Right, I'm going for a shower and to get dressed. I'll see you at Breakfast, Fred." She looks at me one last time, smiling her infectious smile. Her teeth show this time and reveal just how perfect they are. Then, she stand and disappears around the corner into the hall.

I sit for a long time, thinking over everything I've learnt about Hermione Granger in the last week. It's odd, and I don't think I'm imagining this, that I know some of her darkest secrets but I don't even know her favourite colour. If I could take a guess, I'd say purple, but that's not the point. The point is that A. I desperately need to talk to my twin about my new found friendship and B. I desperately need to understand the terms of this new found friendship, before I do something stupid like go and fall in love with the girl who has the most perfect, brown eyes and is still in love with my betrothed brother. Not to mention, a girl who would rather leave the Wizarding World for good then be forced to marry by the ministry.

* * *

"You've got it bad mate." Is George's response to my description of the last few days.

"What?"

"You like her. Hell, I think you love her. Of all the ladies in the world, you fall for Granger." George says, by no means in a cruel manner. He kicks his feet up onto his bed and folds his arms, the same way he always sits when he's thinking. "As a soon-to-be married man, I would highly recommend that you talk to Hermione about this instead of me."

"What?!" I repeat, gobsmacked. That's all he came come up with to solve my most confusing problem. "That's it?! I can't do that! I'll look like an idiot."

"Oh, brother dearest." George chuckles. "You are an idiot."

I throw a pillow at him and he beats it away, staying true to his old Quidditch position. George is telling me the truth and I don't want to hear it yet. I can't have fallen for Hermione because she doesn't want me, she wants Ron. Why else would she get so annoyed over him going out with Padma?

"If you can't tell Hermione yet... baring in mind, you only have a few months to do so before she either marries some other moron or leaves us all, then I'd say Ginny. She'll know what to do."

"No way." I reply, instantaneously. "She'll laugh in my face. She's already been taking the piss because she seems to know how I feel." I explain, beginning to get somewhat frustrated by the situation.

"That's just the point! Ginny was the first to notice and she knows Hermione better than I do. Besides, it's not like we didn't tease her about Harry for the first 16 years of her life."

George makes a fair point in saying that and I sigh, accepting that Ginny would probably be the best option. Unfortunately, she's becoming a busy woman. With a Wedding to plan, a new job at the Daily Prophet and her busy social life, I'm scared she might hit me with a bat-bogey if I ask for any more of her time.

"Yeah, I guess. I don't know Georgie, I can't believe how much everything's changed so quickly. I mean, I can remember when Ginny was born-" Granted, we were only young. "-and in three months she's getting married."

"I know Freddie. But we've got to roll with the times and you've got to find yourself a wifey before you run out of time, brown haired bookworm or not."

As if on bloody cue, there's a knock at the door and Hermione enters slowly. George puts his feet down and sits up, very obviously hiding something. I simply turn and grin at her, causing her to flush a little. It's moments like these that I remember she may actually like me back. No-one else can make Hermione Granger squirm like I do. A small part of me wonders what else I could get her to do, but I quickly force that thought from my crowded mind.

"Lunch is ready." Hermione tells us politely and then retreats from the room immediately.

I turn back to George, sighing heavily. He stares at me like I'm stupid.

"Well, go after her then." He finally says, shaking his head incredulously. I take his cue and race after Hermione, grinning easily.

"Wait up 'Mione!"

* * *

I haven't really seen Hermione since we ate lunch together that day, because she's been working on a project at Mungo's. I always figured Hermione would go for a more office based job, purely for the organisation and structure, but we were all happily surprised when she announced she was becoming a researcher at Mungo's. She's the best in her department, as we all expected, and people would certainly be dead without her.

Still, I'd have been dead if she hadn't finished her project when she did, because not being able to talk to her for days has been utterly distracting. Even though I've been at the shop anyway, now that we've re-opened to the public, I've still missed not being able to talk to her.

Luckily for me, she finished yesterday and I technically don't have to go into work at all. So, with George's acceptance, I didn't. I wasn't really working on anything at the moment and I wouldn't find any inspiration if I was busy sulking over Hermione.

We're sat in the kitchen, drinking tea- A drink I've come to enjoy more now that I associate it with Hermione. Hermione told me as she made the tea that she used to have tea parties with her Grandmother, which is why she still drinks at least one cup a day. It's purely for sentimental reasons.

"Not at the joke shop today then?" Hermione asks me, crossing her legs under the table so that our knees brush. I ignore it, shaking my head in reply.

"Naah. I've not really got any inspiration for pranks. Besides, kids are at school so business is down. We've got a lot of meetings coming up about opening new stores any way, so I don't really want to start something new."

"New stores?" Hermione asks, looking genuinely interested. I know at school, Hermione was never particularly happy with the way George and I wasted our skills, but I think she seems to like it now.

"Yes. One in Hogsmeade, for obvious reasons. One in Paris, China and Denmark too if I'm not mistaken." I'm finding it hard to recall the many files on my desk at work whilst she's looking at me like that. For Merlin's sake, if she's going to be this distracting it's probably better that she does leave the wizarding world.

It take that back the second I think it, feeling remotely ill. That option doesn't bare thinking about. If worst comes to worst, I'll confess everything in the hopes she'll marry me instead of leaving.

"That's incredible. I'm so pleased for you, Fred. Look how far this company's come." She tells me brightly, before sipping her tea and leaving a pale pink lipstick mark on her cup.

"Thanks, 'Mione. You should come by the store sometime. We do have some new products in stock."

"I'll try to, at some point. Work is hectic at the moment. I feel like this is the first time I've sat down in a week. Thank you for keeping me company by the way." Hermione blushes a little and I swear to Merlin she might kill me.

"Are you kidding? It's a pleasure, Miss Granger." I tell her, half bowing- which is a difficult thing to do whilst sitting down. "So, what have you been up to at work?"

Hermione tells me all about a potion that she's been creating, designed to carry water across the body and immediately cure dehydration. She's been working on it for a long time but she's only just had a breakthrough that's allowed her to speed up the process to become, literally, a life-saving drought. I love the way she gets really passionate about her work without realizing it. I understand her excitement over her work because my work runs along the same lines, for entirely different reasons of course. She's searching for connections and links that will save people and I'm searching for concoctions that will make people laugh. It's still research and development, either way, and she makes it sound completely fascinating- despite the fact I already know it is.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry Fred. I've been rambling on for ages. You should have stopped me." Both our cups are empty and, as Hermione correctly said, it's been over half an hour since we sat down.

"Never! I enjoy listening to you talk, Hermione. You should be a teacher someday." She flushes at the compliment and shrugs.

"Maybe, someday. Why? Would you have paid attention if I were your teacher?"

Now it's my turn to blush, as I imagine what my life would have been like if Hermione had been my teacher. I probably would have been distracted for entirely different reasons, frankly. There's no denying, Hogwarts Staff was short on attractive, young teachers when I went to school and I'm excluding Lockhart on principal!

"I doubt it." I reply, looking down sheepishly. "I'd have been too distracted by-"

The kitchen fireplace bursts into green flames and out steps Ginny, dropping a few shopping bags and forcing back tears in her eyes.

"Ginny!" Hermione yelps. We both jump up and I place a hand on my sister's arm, looking deep into her frightened eyes.

"Ginny, what happened?" I ask, completely serious and nervous. Ginny doesn't cry for no reason and especially not in front of other people. But she looks terrified and she's trembling, white in the face.

"I was followed."

* * *

**Thank you for all the encouragement and support! Remember, advice is always welcome too :)**

**Next time- Wedding talk, A Wedding, the return of Ron/Harry and a plot(ish)!**

**Review?**

P.S - How do you feel about it all being Hermione's POV, because I feel like I get into Fred's character better than Hermione's but if it's getting dull... let me know?


	3. Chapter 3

We get Ginny sat down and I leave Hermione to comfort her, returning to the fireplace to Floo Harry and Ron. The boys are here before Mum's even made it inside, and before I know it we're all crowded around the small table- waiting to hear Ginny's story.

I'm worried about my sister. Very worried. But a small voice in my mind can't help but remind me how close Hermione is to me, without our legs touching under the table. I pointedly ignore that voice, as Ginny finally speaks up again in a shaky voice.

"I was followed." She tells us. "I swear it. I was shopping in Diagon Alley and I noticed there was this figure going into the same shops as me. He was creepy as fuck-"

"-Language Ginerva!" Mum inputs, but we all look at her like she's mad. Ginny continues nonetheless.

"But I thought it was just coincidence. But then I decided to head back to the Leaky Cauldron to come home and he followed me down the street and he had his wand out and I started running." Ginny's crying again now, shaking her head forcedly. "And he ran after me. I feel so stupid. I should have confronted him or cursed him but I didn't, I just ran away."

"Hey, it's alright. It's not our job to fight any more, Ginny. You can leave that to the Aurors." Angelina says softly, wrapping her arms around Ginny in a sisterly hug. It's nice that Angelina fits so well into our family, and even nicer for George I imagine.

"Exactly." Harry beams, Ron nodding beside him. The smarmy gits have only been on the job for a few months and they already think they're running the place. By rights, Harry probably could be but Ron hasn't quite got the natural skills and leadership that Harry does when it comes to defence. "We are working on bringing all the Death Eaters in, Gin, but they're sneaky little buggers."

"I know." Ginny sniffles, wiping her eyes. She was always such a strong bug. I make a mental note to tell Ginny about when she was a kid and learning to walk. One night, she jumped out of her cot and smacked into the floor and then just got up and toddled off as if nothing had happened. I still can't believe how much she's grown, but she's still that resilient little bleeder she always was.

"Well, from now on I'd like you to always have someone with you when you go out." Mum declares, pointing her finger at Ginny. "And that goes for all of you, actually. It's safer to take these precautions now." We all agree, simply to please mum, but there's really no chance of us following these new rules. Mum sometimes forgets that we're all actually grown up now and have jobs and can't have body guards following us everywhere.

"Ginny, Harry- can you both come help me with your seating arrangements."

Ginny and Harry oblige, though Ginny still looks understandably shaken. The rest of the family disperse too, leaving myself, George and Angie, Ronald and Hermione sitting in an awkward silence.

"Are you bringing Padma to the wedding next week, Ron?" Hermione eventually asks Ron, breaking the silence. I stiffen slightly at the mention of Padma, because Ron bringing his fiancé will just be a reminder to Hermione that the boy she loves is getting married, which is a reminder to me that I have no chance with Hermione.

"Yeah, I guess." Ron replies uncomfortably. "She really wants to get to know everyone better any way."

"Well, that's good." Hermione smiles and then looks away, visibly deterred from trying to make conversation. Another moment of silence passes and for the life of me, I can't think of a single word to say. George and Angelina are muttering to each other at the other end of the table so they're no use. Either way, Hermione eventually gets up with a confident expression beaming outwards.

"It's a lovely day. I think I'll go and take a walk." And then she leaves, her smile fading the second Ron can't see her. But I can see her, and I wonder if she knows that she's let her guard down in front of me. She must do. It's not exactly a rare occurrence.

When she's gone, I turn to Ron and narrow my eyes. "What are you playing at, Ron? Hermione's really trying to make everything better and you're being about as receptive as an unconscious turtle. Don't you think you've hurt her enough?"

Ron's ears tinge pink but, much to my surprise, he doesn't blow up at me. He takes a deep breath and I can't help but stare at him, wondering if this is really my brother.

"I'm trying, Fred." He sighs, laying his head down on the table. "Look," He says quietly, "If I tell you everything, will you promise to keep it a secret. I can't talk to Harry about it because he'll tell Gin and Gin will be mad at Hermione for not telling her."

"Yeah, of course." I reply instantly.

"Well, I was an arse to Hermione. I know I was. I led her on for weeks after the battle and then I got scared of committing and went and screwed things up again. The thing is, I love Hermione. I've always loved her. I'm just a moron. When we got that letter, I didn't think. I just assumed she still loved me. Even though I was going out with Padma... I was so_ stupid_, Fred. I thought she'd wait for me forever." Ron rubs his eyes in a child-like manner and sighs heavily. "I apologised to Hermione in private, properly, when we got back to Grimmauld Place. I told her I loved her and I'd leave Padma to marry her. But she turned me down. She wasn't angry or mean... she just told me she didn't love me like that any more. Then she moved back here. To give us some space."

I cant believe the words that I'm hearing.

Hermione doesn't love Ron.

But Ron loves Hermione.

But Ron can't have Hermione.

But I could... I blink rapidly, trying not to think about stealing the woman my brother loves. I splutter for a moment before replying.

"Are you alright?"

Ron shrugs. "I guess. I totally understand where she's coming from. I don't even blame her. And I guess I do kind of like Padma. I don't want to screw things up with her like I did Hermione. The problem is, I don't want to lose Hermione either. I'm scared she's going to leave the Wizarding World."

Yes. I reply in my head. Me too.

* * *

I find Hermione sat under a tree in the Orchard, reading some muggle novel I don't recognise. But it's definitely muggle because the cover isn't moving. She's been crying, but now she's lost in the book as she doesn't see or hear me coming until I sit opposite her.

"Oh," She murmurs, closing her book and placing it gently beside her. "Hello Fred."

"Hermione." I reply, smiling vaguely. "You alright?"

She nods, frowns and then shakes her head.

"Ron told you?"

Damn this clever woman. She's incredible.

"Yeah. He doesn't hate you, if that's what you're worried about. I think he feels more guilty than anything." I shrug. It's weird talking about the love life of my baby brother and Hermione. Because if Hermione had been in my year... If I'd been the one best friends with her, I'd never have made her wait for even a second. If anything, I'd have waited for her.

"I told him not to. What's done is done. I just want to move on." Hermione attempts a brave smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes and makes me heart ache.

"He doesn't feel guilty about that, 'Mione. I think it's because he's falling for Padma."

Hermione doesn't reply. She tilts her head back against the tree so that her long, elegant neck is exposed. Her hair falls a long way down, shining a thousand different tones in the sunlight. I can't help but feel slightly captivated by her presence, despite our sombre choice of conversation topic. One day, we'll meet in happier circumstances.

"I'm happy for the both of them. Honestly, I've got enough of my own problems to worry over Ron's life as well. He will always be my best friend, but that's all. I've known that for a long time."

Something in Hermione's eyes tells me she's not lying, and I smile wryly. "I'm glad you've sorted things out, anyway. It's been hilarious watching Mum fret over whether you'll ever be a true Weasley."

"Yeah, I guess that's out of the question now." Hermione sighs, laughing abruptly.

In a bizarre, unanticipated and completely unauthorized act – I grin, kiss Hermione's cheek and bounce up, winking. "You never know, Granger."

And then I stride off, my sudden burst of confidence suddenly deteriorating as I realize what the hell I've just done. This is Hermione Granger, not some ditzy girl. She isn't going to be impressed by cheesy charm, she'll want romance or deep, meaningful conversation. Still, the damage was done and now that it was, I downright refused to talk to Ginny. She'd take the mick to no end.

"Was that an offer, or a statement?" Hermione calls after me, the sound of her laughter catching up with me. Relief floods me as I turn around, still walking backwards with the grace of someone seriously skilled at sneaking.

"Merely an observation." I call back, swooping into a low bow before entering the back door of the Burrow and entering the kitchen. Did she want it to be an offer? Just hours ago I believed she only loved Ron, but so much has changed.

I shut the Kitchen door behind me and kiss my mother's cheek. She looks at me suspiciously and I can only imagine all the possibilities of why I might be so cheery flicking through her head. A new prank or joke product, perhaps? She reaches out a hand and places it under my chin firmly, looking straight at me.

"If my motherly instincts are correct, Fred Gideon Weasley, which I'm sure they are-"

"Oh, I wouldn't dare presume otherwise mother dearest." I interrupt, standing a little straighter.

Mum narrows her eyes further, but they begin to drift past me and out of the window where Hermione is making her way back to the house. I follow mum's gaze and my smile only widens.

"Then I'd say you were in love." Mum continues softly, looking back at me. I don't answer. I merely kiss her other cheek and hurry off to find George and ask his opinion on my new insight into Hermione's mind.

* * *

Three days pass and when I wake on the fourth day, I grin immediately. It's still dark out and my old watch tells me it's just past 3 in the morning, but that doesn't stop my from knowing that today is going to be fantastic. Today, on the Nineteenth of October, my brother Percy is marrying his fiancé- Audrey. That, however, is not the reason that today is going to be fantastic. Don't get me wrong, I'm pleased for the git. He's finally found someone else to annoy. But I'm more excited for the fact that it's a Wedding and if there's one thing George and I know how to do, it's liven up a Wedding.

The fact that Hermione will be there and we might get to discussing marriage again is merely a happy coincidence. I haven't been at the Burrow since that day. George and I got called into Australia for a meeting with the owner of the store we want to buy. We were only there for a few hours, but since then the Paperwork has been holding George up at home and it's been my duty as a twin to stick around and not leave him alone to get bored.

I hear a giggle from the room next to mine and it's clearly Angelina. I throw up a silencing charm around Georgie's room and slide out of bed, throwing on some boxers in case they decide to exit their room at any point.

The flat is a little chilly now that it's October. I hadn't intended on staying here again but Mum and Dad have given our room away to Audrey's sisters until the Wedding. I don't mind really, unless they attempt to open any of our drawers- in which case, they'll definitely be needing make-up for the Wedding.

I wonder, sitting down at the breakfast bar with a glass of water, if Hermione will dance with me later or whether she'll just laugh at my attempts to woo her. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

12 hours later and I step out of the fireplace into the burrow, brushing ash off my robes nonchalantly. I don't particularly care how I look because the second I look up from my robes, I see Hermione. She's frowning at me and shaking her head, pulling out her wand to vacuum the dust from my robes. She rests a hand on my shoulder as her wand moves quickly across my chest. Her eyes are looking down at me, but her eyelids are dusted in a shimmering pale pink eye-shadow. The dress she's wearing is a dusty sort of pink, the fabric all floaty and light. She's taller than usual too, I notice as she looks back up at me and smiles.

"All better." She tells me and I look back down. My dress robes are, indeed, ash free- but I'm more interested in the heeled silver sandals Hermione is wearing, displaying her painted toe-nails. I realize I'm still staring down and look up again quickly.

"Thank you." I tell her, somewhat breathlessly. Come on! This isn't me. I don't trip over my words for anyone, not even the woman I love. I take a deep breath and grin. "You look incredible, Hermione. Just incredible."

She blushes a little, tucking her hair behind her ear. Man, I hadn't even noticed her hair. It's curled softly and her fringe has been plaited and pinned around her head. She looks perfect. I hadn't anticipated her doing this to me.

"Thanks. And you look very nice now you're completely ash free." She replies, tucking her wand back into her sleeve. I don't question her choice to keep her wand at the ready. It may be a little paranoid, but there are still Death Eaters on the loose and this wouldn't be the first Weasley Wedding they've crashed.

"Well, I try." I tell Hermione, grinning. "So, what's happening? Are people arriving."

"Yes, but Audrey's little brothers and Bill and Charlie are directing people to their seats, so we're free to do as we please."

I hide a blush, thinking over all the things that I _would_ like to do with Hermione. Instead I simply offer her my arm and gesture to the brisk but sunny October day. "Then I suggest, Miss Granger, that we go and find our seats."

Hermione takes my arm, giggling a little, and we step out into the decorated garden. It's been littered with heating charms, so the air isn't too cold, and decorated exactly to Audrey's wishes. Audrey isn't quite as bad as I first thought. She's easier to get on with than Percy, but still very strict. Her Wedding has been planned meticulously, from the gold and pink theme to the food.

I know Hermione and Ginny aren't particularly fond of Audrey and they've protested in their own subtle way. Hermione, going against the theme by wearing silver instead of gold, and Ginny- a reluctant bridesmaid- refusing to wear her heels and running around carelessly with Audrey's little brothers, laughing in glee.

Hermione and I both watch Ginny for a minute, queueing up with everyone else to find out seats. She's going to be such a good mother some day, but I pray that day doesn't come too soon because I'm still struggling to cope with the fact that she's getting married.

We reach the front of the queue and Charlie raises an eyebrow at me, looking to my arm linked with Hermione's. I simply smile and he rolls his eyes, sending us off to the front of the seating area.

The wedding is long and tiring but at the end of it, Hermione is leaning on my arm and wiping away tears. I wrap an arm around her shoulders, vaguely aware of clapping around us as the newest Mr and Mrs Weasley made their way back down the aisle.

"Hey, I know it's a Wedding but you shouldn't be this sad to see Percy go. After all, it's Percy." I tell her, squeezing her to me a little.

She gives a watery chuckle, wiping her eyes carefully so as not to mess up her make-up. "I guess." She replies, shaking her head. "No, it's not the wedding. More, a lack of my own wedding."

My mouth promptly falls open and I struggle to think of what to say. "'Mione... I thought you-"

"I know. I don't want to get married. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for everyone around me. I mean, Harry and Ginny and George and Angie. Even Ron and Padma." We stand as the seats disappear and then slowly make our way over to a table towards the back of the Garden, far away from the noise and laughter of Aunt Muriel. "But every day I remember I only have so many months left. You know, pretty soon those months will become weeks and then days... I don't want to have to leave the wizarding world. Or the country, god dammit. I like my life! I enjoy my job and I want to fall in love normally and not in some forced situation!"

I steal two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and force one into Hermione's hand, but she doesn't take much coercion. She knocks it back quickly and then slumps in her seat, resting her head on her hand. Her sadness and tears are gone, replaced by sheer frustration.

"Hermione, I speak in complete honesty when I tell you that you could have any man you wanted." I tell her and she sits back up, smiling at me with a haunting sadness in her eyes.

"I don't want to marry someone who doesn't love me, Freddie." She whispers and then looks away. What she means by that, I have no idea. Why can't she just be practical and marry until the law gets repealed? Why is she being so... stupid? This isn't Hermione. Instead of being sensible, she was being stubborn and sticking to the idea of falling in love naturally. I can't blame her, not really. How could it be fair that she may have to marry someone she doesn't love.

Then again... how can I watch her go?

I sip my champagne absently, thinking again about the possibility that I could marry her. She may not love me like I love her, but it would keep her with me... with all of us, until the law is repealed.

Hermione sighs beside me, shaking me from my thoughts.

"At least one good thing came out of this Law." She said, watching me sideways through her lashes.

"Oh yeah?... What's that then?" I ask and she smiles weakly again.

"I got to know you better."

"That you did, Miss Granger. And as a clause of being friends with a man as dashing and handsome as myself, you simply must stop frowning and start dancing. With me!"

Hermione laughs, shaking her head. "Uhuh? I can't remember signing up for that." She tells me and the way she looks at me makes my head spin in a way I know isn't the champagne.

"It was in the small print." I reply, brushing off her statement and jumping up- extending my hand out to her. She takes it after a moment's deliberation and we make our way to the dance floor. Ron and Padma are dancing slowly at the edge of the floor, a stark contrast to George and Angie who are flailing madly to the slow music.

"Oh no." Hermione laughs exuberantly. "I'm not dancing with you if you dance like your brother."

I know she's talking about George, who is now spinning Angie around in rapid circles, but I grin.

"Which one?"

Before she can reply, I place my hand on her waist and pull her close to me, moving slowly in time with the music. We don't talk as we dance. Hermione's hair smells divine, like Cherries and something else... something subtler. I try my hardest to keep that damn enticing smell out of my damn nose, but I can't. Hermione doesn't seem to notice my inner struggle and rests her head on my shoulder contently.

"Thank you for being you, Fred Weasley." She murmurs and a large part of me wants to ask her to marry me there and then. But I don't. If there is even the slightest chance that Hermione likes me, then I'm not going to marry her for some stupid law. I'll marry her because I want to and she wants to, too.

"You're very welcome, Hermione Granger." I reply.

Over the top of Hermione's head, I can see Mum and Ginny looking at me with knowing smiles. I pretend I haven't seen them because, for what feels like the thousandth time since the First of October, I have no idea what I'm meant to be saying or feeling. All I know is that the woman I love is dancing in my arms and, if I could make it, this moment would never end.

* * *

**Next time – More drama, and not the good kind.**

**Thank you for your reviews. I'd like to say that I'm sorry for any silly mistakes. I don't have a Beta and I usually miss several mistakes when going over my own work. **


	4. Chapter 4

**(Hermione's POV)**

I'm sat in the lab and staring at the list of ingredients in front of me, trying to work out which ones are buggering up my potion, but for the life of me I can't focus.

Working at Mungo's is really unlike anything I had anticipated. Despite the work we do here being absolutely crucial, there are really no rules or restrictions. The Department seem very aware that creativity is crucial in experimental magic and so breaks are regular and holidays are given freely. It's not all play though. It's a very hard job to secure. The interview was more like an audition, with trained legilimens looking at how my brain works to see if I was up for the job.

Still, that was months ago now and I've already done a great deal of research. I decide I'm allowed a break from this dead end potion and I stalk out of my lab, heading up to the Lobby to grab a coffee from one of the girls in reception.

You might not be able to tell from my useless, blank mind, but it's my first day back at work in about a week. I'd hoped the break would ease my mind and give me the rest that I'd been so looking forward to, but instead I find myself more confused than ever. Despite knowing otherwise, I like to think it's all the fault of one Fred Weasley.

Him.

When did it happen? That's what I want to know. When did I start falling for Fred _Bloody_ Weasley? Is it because he's the only male left, who I know, that isn't getting married? Is that it!? Or was it him all along and I was just too thick to realize it?

What's more, does he even know how I feel? Does he feel the same way? His actions would suggest so but his words say otherwise. Apart from the time he offered to marry me. Joking he may have been, his words hurt then and they hurt now. I don't want to leave the wizarding world. Granted, I don't want to marry either but if it were to Fred, I think I could cope.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Says Jamie, one of the ladies that work in reception. She's worked at Mungo's for years and seems to know everyone who passes through it's doors. "You look a little distracted."

"Yeah, I am. Sorry Jamie, just thinking. It's a good job I'm not a healer. I'd have patients dying while my mind was elsewhere."

Jamie laughs and I lean over her desk, resting my chin on the wood.

"Jamie, how can you tell if someone would agree to marrying you?"

Jamie thinks over my question for a moment and then smiles at me, a warm smile that reminds me of my mother or Mrs Weasley. It's definitely a motherly look. I haven't seen my own parents in weeks. It's so much harder to stay in touch now that they're in Australia. I have been invited to stay with them over the holidays, but considering I may well end up in the Muggle World forever after Christmas, I turned them down to spend what little time I have left with the Weasleys.

"I'd have to advise you to simply ask that person, my dear. You can't get answers if you don't ask questions." Jamie tells me wisely, and I groan into the desk.

"That's the thing I was trying to avoid." I tell her, a child-like grumpiness in my tone. How can I focus on work? How can I focus on anything when all I can think of is Fred Weasley and his stupid, easy grin. That one freckle under his left, sparkling blue eye. His hair, not too long but still long enough for me to want to wind my hands into it. And then there's his hands. Every time he touches me, I have to resist the urge to shiver. Not only is it wrong... it hurts. Because he has no intention of marrying someone as dull as me and I know that. Fred Weasley is not one for commitment and he never will be.

"'Mione! What are you doing here?"

I drag myself up off the desk immediately, hearing the surprised tone of George Weasley. Turning, I see him stood behind me with Fred, unconscious in his arms.

"George!" I exclaim, my eyes widening as they cast over Fred's face. "What happened?" Panic is a feeling I can't suppress as Jamie passes me a registration form, casting me a comforting wink.

"Mergh." George rubs his temples tiredly. "We got sort of a rush when we opened the shop today. Fred's normally downstairs but he sort of got caught in it today. He had a panic attack and sort of... well," George tells me as I lead him to one of the private rooms on the first floor. Screw routine. I hail down a Healer I know and he follows us as George continues his story. "He passed out. I thought it would be safe to bring him to get checked over, cos he hit his head when he fell."

I can't help but feel somewhat relieved knowing it wasn't something worse, but that doesn't mean I'm not still worried about him. Having a panic attack because he got stuck in his own shop isn't exactly... normal? Or is it? I know Fred has trouble sleeping but could the War have effected him more than that? He looks so peaceful now... it's hard to believe he is actually one of the Weasley twins!

We enter one of the private rooms and George lowers Fred onto a bed carefully, before stepping back to let the Healer look at him.

"Has this ever happened before?" I ask George, my curiosity getting the better of me.

"Ugh." George looks uncomfortable. He shrugs, coughing awkwardly. "Yeah, but you should really talk to him about it. He won't mind, Hermione."

"If you say so." I sigh. "And how's the wedding planning going? Have you set a date yet?"

George informs me that they have indeed set a date for the 10th of November and then tells me all about the planning Angelina has been doing. It's probably the first time I've heard George sound so passionate about something that wasn't to do with pranking or the shop.

A cough interrupts our conversation and I notice the healer has finished his inspection. "He's fine. He should wake up in his own time."

George and I both sigh simultaneously, thanking the Healer. He leaves quickly, having been pulled away from whatever he was doing before by me. Admittedly, I feel a little guilty for stealing a healer but I'm more worried about Fred so I push the guilt aside and sit next to his bed.

"I really need to get back to the shop, Hermione. I'm sorry for asking, but are you too busy to-"

"I'll stay." I cut him off. I haven't even thought about leaving, so I don't know why he even has to ask. "Of course. Don't worry about it."

George smiles and clasps a hand on my shoulder. "Thanks 'Mione. I'll see you later."

George leaves then and I turn back to Fred, watching his sleeping form. He stirs a little and I know it can't be long before he wakes up.

* * *

**(Fred's POV)**

The first thing I feel upon waking up is confusion, which honestly doesn't happen very often which confuses me even further. The thing is, I don't have a pounding headache to indicate a hangover and I can't taste firewhiskey on my tongue so that eliminates a night's drinking. The only way to tell why I have been asleep is to open my eyes.

I do so and I'm greeted by what clearly is a hospital room and a very concerned Hermione sat beside my bed.

"What happened?" I ask and, with a start, she realizes I'm awake. Her frown deepens and she looks at me, curiously.

"You don't remember?"

I bite back a sarcastic retort. I didn't sleep very well last night- worse than usual, if you can believe it, but Hermione doesn't deserve to feel the brunt of my tiredness. Not the way she looks anyway. Almost as bad as I feel.

"I was at the shop. We opened today." I say after a moment and she nods absently.

"Yes. You got caught in the- uh, the rush, and you... well, you-"

"Passed out?" I guess and she nods miserably.

"George brought you here because you hit your head, but he had to get back to the shop. You've been out twenty minutes. How do you feel?" Hermione bites her bottom lip anxiously and, despite our current situation, I'm torn between telling her off for worrying over me and finding another way to stop her biting her lip -namely, by biting it for her.

"I feel... fine. Just fine. How do you feel?" I reply, smiling brightly. Hermione reacts quite opposite to the way I'd expected. Her eyes widen with incredulity and she slaps her hand down on the arm of her chair.

"Fine?!" She repeats, angrily. "Fred, people who have panic attacks and pass out in their own shop are _not_ fine. How can they be? And George says this has happened before! How can you just be _fine_ with that?"

"What else can I be?" I ask and she shakes her, clearly still angry. I sit up, feeling somewhat dizzy, and look straight into her eyes- which is an impressive feat considering how much they make me want to kiss her. "Listen to me, Hermione. I used to be a lot worse. This isn't something to stress over, it's just another side effect of the war and I'm getting better. I didn't mean to scare you and I swear, I'm going to kill George for bringing me here, but you can't let something as little as me fainting get to you."

I'm grateful that her anger has diminished for a fraction of a second, before the anger is replaced by upset. She isn't crying, but she looks so defeated that it's difficult not to just hug her and hold her for the rest of time.

"I know. I'm sorry. Don't kill George, he was only looking out for you." She says softly, looking past me.

We sit in silence for what seems like the longest time. I feel like I should say something to make her feel better, or at least find out why she was affected so much by my incident in the first place. Still, Hermione gets there first.

"Why does it happen?" She asks suddenly, her deep brown eyes finding me again. "And why does nobody but George know?"

A small part of me wants to brush her question off and simply not answer, but I ignore that part of me because she's right. George is the only one who knows and it shouldn't be that way. Besides, if I have to tell anyone I'm glad it's Hermione.

"It's really not that bad, Hermione. It's happened like, once or twice since that wall fell on me. I just get a bit stifled in crowds now. When I feel like I can't get out. It's not that big a deal and I never told anyone but George because I thought no-one else would ever need to know. I didn't intend on ever letting myself get into a situation like this."

"I see." Hermione sighs a little, looking deflated now. She scrapes her hair back into a high pony tail and leans back in her chair. "I'm sorry for being so... I don't know, I'm just tired."

Now it's my turn to feel worried, because even when Hermione is tired she doesn't let herself get too emotional. Something has to be different.

"Nightmares?" I ask quietly. She looks at me and laughs abruptly.

"Like they bother me any more." She kids, but it's not funny. She should never have gotten to the point where she can deal with that. I don't want Hermione to have to go through that every night. I think back to the night we fell asleep together on the couch. That was a complete accident but it doesn't change the fact that Hermione had no nightmares and I actually slept. "No. It's just life at the moment, Fred. I always figured after the War was over, everything would slot into place and I'm just be automatically happy. But it's really not worked out that way."

"You'll get there, Hermione. These things take time." I tell her softly and she smiles.

"I know. Everything gets better with time, right?"

I grin. "Right!"

"Fred, I... I feel like I should tell you something."

My mind goes blank as I struggle to think of what she needs to tell me. Her smile fades quickly and her big, brown eyes are sad again. I really want it to be something positive but the look on her face indicates she's not exactly going to burst out with confessions of undying love.

"Only if it's good, Granger." I reply after a moments deliberation. She shakes her head slowly and dread consumes my every breath.

"My Parents have a friend who owns a Muggle Law firm. He's offering me a job, in the Muggle World... in Australia."

And there it is. The thing I've been dreading for weeks, finally spoken aloud. The idea that Hermione might not only be leaving our world, but leaving our Country too, is preposterous and painful and not good news at all.

"Are you going to accept it?" I ask, my voice nothing more than a whisper because if I try to force anything louder I'm afraid my voice might break. I'm convinced she's already said yes. That she's going to leave me to marry someone I don't love, simply because I'm too scared to ask her to stay.

Hermione never gets a chance to reply. The door flies open and some young Healer flies in, looking haggard and covered in blood.

"Miss Granger, is this room free?" He asks, breathless.

Hermione jumps up and stares, wide eyed. "It can be. Why?" She asks as I stand beside her. I slip my hand into hers as the Healer replies, not caring of the consequences.

"There was an explosion at the Ministry. The entire Auror Floor is gone and the fire spread a few floors before it could be stopped."

Hermione squeezes my hand tightly and I hear her intake a sharp breath. "Harry and Ron."

Next thing I know, we're running. My hand is still linked tightly with Hermione's and it's almost a struggle to keep up with her, but the warmth of her hand gives me the energy I need. Besides, she's completely right. Ron and Harry are both Aurors. They could both be dead this very minute.

We speed up and now it's no trouble at all to keep up. We reach the lobby in less than a minute and see it's full of Ministry Officials. There's a cacophony of coughing and shouting. Some are bleeding and some are burnt ferociously. A young woman is collapsed by the front desk, her face half burnt in the most horrific way.

"HARRY?! RON!" Hermione screams over the noise and then, in what I can only believe is a miracle, there is a reply.

"Hermione!"

Out of the crowd, the raven hair of Harry Potter pushes through with ease to get to Hermione. He greets her in a tight, brotherly hug. He isn't injured, but covered in ash. If I'm not mistaken, he's been doing more saving then dying. Thank Merlin.

"Ron? Where is he?" I ask and Harry looks at me, bewildered as to what I'm doing here.

"He's with Padma. She works in the floor above and got caught in the flames. She's alright, but he's not leaving her."

My whole body relaxes, knowing that Ron is safe. I know he's a git a lot of the time and I hate all the pain he put Hermione through, but he's still my brother and I'm glad he's not dead.

"But Harry, what happened?" Hermione asks. We move back down the corridor we'd emerged from, where the noise was drowned out and we could talk properly.

"It was intended for me. Kingsley received a note that said 'You better hope this kills Potter' and then the explosion went off." Harry takes a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair tiredly. "Ron and I were in the office with him and we all went to help out." Harry shakes his head and a tear falls down his mucky cheek. "A few people are dead, Hermione." He says, his voice shaking. I want to do something to make him feel better, but now isn't the time for jokes. "Voldemort is dead and I'm still getting people killed. It isn't meant to be like this."

Hermione holds him until he manages to regain some composure.

"I have to get back, see if I can help with the clean up."

"You'll do no such thing, Harry James Potter." Hermione says in a strict, motherly tone. She places a thumb under his chin and forces him to look her in the eye. "You're going home to the Burrow to explain what happened and then you're going to let Ginny look after you. You'll be no help in the state you're in. Besides, surely this plotter will expect you to return to the scene. You need to go somewhere safe, for now at least."

Harry agrees and, with another hug, apparates home. Hermione and I sit in silence again. At some point she leans into my side and I wrap my arm around her shoulders, holding her close the way I've wanted to do for weeks now. The movement to standing apart to sitting together is natural and seamless and it just feels right.

"You never got the chance to tell me what you're going to do?" I prompt after a few minutes. Because, despite the situation, I'm still positively anxious about what her answer is going to be. Now that Ron and Harry are both safe, I really can't think of anything else.

"I don't know." Hermione murmurs, and I feel her warm breath on my shirt. "That all depends on what happens between now and Christmas."

"Well." I reply, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Let's hope something good happens."

* * *

**Next time – A visit to France, and Wedding and some girl talk with Ginny. **

**This kind of had to be in Hermione's POV, but I'm glad you all like Fred's :)**

**Review!**


	5. Chapter 5

The first of November is bitter cold. The clouds are thick and foreboding, but bright like the sun is just behind that curtain of grey. I don't get much time to watch them from the basement of the shop, rushed off my feet with deliveries. We can't get enough people in to deal with the flood of orders, so I've been dragged into dealing with the owl orders. I don't mind, really, but it's a long and exhausting day. Eventually, evening comes and we close up. George bids me goodnight with a wink and then saunters up to the flat. I apparate back to the Burrow, where I have officially moved in until... until either I find a new place or Hermione leaves.

I'm welcomed home by mum with a hearty meal of bread and soup, which normally I would love but not when it means sitting at the table and listening to Ginny's wedding talk. Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to the wedding. It's my baby sister, after all. A perfect opportunity to cause all kinds of trouble, though of course we have been threatened several times over to behave.

I like to think I've learnt how to deflect Ginny's bat-bogeys by now.

I drift off through most of Ginny's ramblings. Apparently, mum's the only one who cares what Ginny has to say as Hermione is all staring absently out of the window. I watch her for a long moment, trying to decipher her blank expression. I want to know what she's thinking and feeling. It's been a hectic few days since the explosion at the Ministry and we've both avoided the subject completely. I have noticed, though, how Hermione's stopped being so... careful, around me. No. It's not like she's changed how she acts, she's just stopped second guessing herself. It's difficult to explain, but something is different and I know it's because of what happened that day. Maybe she's just enjoying whatever time she has left in the wizarding world. Maybe she's just given up caring about social boundaries. Maybe she wants to be close to someone that's not Harry or Ron. Or, maybe, she wants that something good to happen to.

"And I love Ron, but he's such a lump and it's very difficult to turn Grimmauld Place into a family home when he's loitering around." Ginny is spurred on by mum's sympathetic hums. "Padma won't let him move in with her until they're married- not that I blame her -and he refuses to rent somewhere until then. And I very well can't send him back here. That just wouldn't be fair to Hermione."

Hermione stirs at that and I'm forced to follow her frowning gaze to Ginny.

"Sorry?" Hermione asks, confused from not paying attention. I suppress a smile, because it's Hermione and what more reason could I need?

"Never mind." Ginny sighs heavily. "How's your flat search going Hermione?" Ginny twists the topic with ease, smiling brightly. Hermione's vacant smile fades slightly and I see a shift in her eyes that saddens me. The sparkling chocolate orbs go from happily oblivious to guilt-ridden and hurt. What flat search? Hermione gave up trying to establish her life here when the law came out.

"Not brilliant." Hermione replies tentatively. "But I think the market will pick up after Christmas. As long as you're willing to put up with me until then?"

Hermione, I decide, is a brilliant liar. She turns to mum for her question, biting her lip in an innocent, hopeful sort of way. That doesn't mask the hurt in her eyes. I can still see it, especially when her eyes flick to me as if daring me to say a word.

"Of course dear." Mum tells her kindly. "Take as long as you need. No rush."

"But make sure it's big enough for whatever lucky man moves in with you. Or else you'll have to go through all this again."

My breath catches in my throat. I don't know how Hermione will react to that, because Ginny's intentions were good but her words were thoughtless and we all know it.

"I'll pick whichever house is right for me." Hermione says after a moment, her voice guarded. She looks at me again, but my lips are sealed. I'm not going to say anything to make her mad- mainly because it's not my place. Not yet, anyway. Besides, seeing Hermione hot, flustered and mad at me could full well kill me.

Mum starts rambling on about Ginny's wedding again and Hermione and I both look away, instantly bored. But really, why would I want to guess where my baby sister is going on her Honeymoon? Eurgh. And there isn't a chance in hell Hermione wants to hear about weddings when that stupid law is making her want to leave our world.

I get a chance to escape the situation when a letter arrives for me from George. It's about a potential shop in France. We can't buy it until one of us had personally been out there to check location and potential layouts, so it's now or never to go. Unfortunately, Georgie happens to be getting married in four days and Angie has him on a tight leash until the Wedding is over. So, it looks like I'm going to France alone.

That is, until I look up and see Hermione playing with the ends of her hair idly. She doesn't notice as I pull up a chair next to her and jumps when I lean over and whisper to her.

"Fancy a trip to the Ministry, 'Mione?" I ask her, grinning at my own idea.

Hermione looks over at my sister and mother, nattering away about flower arrangements. For a moment, it looks like she's going to decline, but then she turns to me and nods repeatedly.

"Yes please."

I grin, bounding up from my chair and into the fireplace. "Won't be long mum. Just a few errands to run." I tell my concerned mother, who looks up as if to ask where the hell I'm going this late on a Friday night.

"I see. Be careful." Mum tells me, pointing a finger at me. I grin and then I gone in a burst of green flames. I feel somewhat bad for lying, because we're going to leave the country- never mind the Burrow. Knowing mum, she'll worry like crazy. Still, in my defence, she has the clock and she'll know that we're safe from that. Hopefully, anyway. I can't really see us getting into an awful lot of trouble.

Hermione arrives at the Ministry just a few seconds after me. She's wearing skinny jeans, ankle boots and a blouse and cardigan. She looks cute as hell, but that's not the point. We're both going to freeze to death. I didn't really think that through when I decided to leave so suddenly.

She looks at me stood still, some confusion in her deep brown doe eyes. They break me from my though and I offer her my arm charmingly. She takes it, sending shivers down my arm.

"So, what are we here for?" She asks as we begin to walk through the empty atrium. She doesn't know this, but I'm looking for the French Fireplace to take us to the ministry in France. That's the quickest way to travel internationally in the wizarding world.

"Ah, right." I murmur as we walk. "See, the thing is, I sort of hid the truth when I said I had to go the ministry."

"Sorry?" Hermione asks, her tone changing slightly from confusion to concern. I can't help but grin down at her, sending her a reassuring wink. She tinges pink, placing her other hand on my arm to enable her to keep up with my fast pace.

"Well, you see. I do need to go the ministry. Just not this one." I continued, struggling not to laugh.

"Frederick Weasley, where are you taking me?" She asks, and I like the way my name sounds when she says it, but try not to think about it.

"France. Well, Paris to be precise. I have a shop to buy."

"At midnight?" Hermione asks me, started. I laugh, imaging what kind of shop would only pass hands in the dead of night.

"No. In the morning. I didn't really account for time. I just wanted to get out the house." I confess, watching for her reaction nervously. She doesn't seem mad. Merely amused. She shrugs, pulling her cardigan tight around her.

"So long as we find a nice hotel to wait the night out in." She tells me.

I grin, simply because of Hermione. What with the ongoing threats from rogue Death Eaters and the constant talk of marriage, I suspect it's going to be nice to get out of England – if only for a day or so.

We reach the correct fireplace, and after a brief interview with a ministry worker, we both enter the large, ornate Floo gate. I wrap an arm around Hermione's waist, trying to keep my movements natural and smooth, despite almost shaking in... maybe it's nerves? I've never really felt nervous. Especially not around a girl! Still, Granger is no ordinary girl. She's... incredible. She's the loves of my life, I'm certain, and I have two months to persuade her not to leave the country.

This Floo trip is longer than normal, as it is across countries, but eventually we step out into the French Ministry. Their Ministry is much grander, it seems, than our British one. But we don't stick around long enough for sightseeing. After stating our reason for visiting, we're leaving the ministry instantly.

"Do you realize," Hermione says to me happily as find ourselves in the streets of Paris, unsure of where to go and completely frozen, "That we are officially out of the reach of the Marriage Law. Could we stay here forever?"

I wrap my arm around her waist again, guiding her through an alley to what I hope is a more main, civilised road. It seems like it, with street lamps lighting our way.

"I wish. First, I think we need to find a hotel though." I tell her. What I really want to say is YES! Let's stay here always, together and forget about home. But I know I can't.

"Well, that looks very mainstream." Hermione points down the road to a skyscraper type building. The sort we see whenever we're going through muggle London, back home.

We head for the hotel and, after a confusing ordeal of Hermione retrieving muggle money, eventually get some rooms.

"It's late." Hermione comments as we enter the lift.

"Very." I agree, smiling lightly. I don't feel tired though, despite my long day. It may be the adrenaline of just taking off for another country, but it's probably Hermione.

"Do you fancy ordering some room service? I quite fancy a midnight snack." She adds. The lift bings as it stops and the doors slide open.

"Yeah, why not." I reply, grinning. We find our respective rooms, next to each others, and enter to clean up. I look exhausted in the mirror of my en-suite, but I just splash my face with water and leave. By the time Hermione's cleaned up, the food has arrived. Hermione ordered lasagne and chips. Hermione would have been fine to eat in her room, but in a spur of the moment stroke of genius, I grab the blankets from her bed and she follows me through her window to the fire escape. The wind is pretty rough but we make it to the roof of the tall building and I climb up to the little cabin on the roof, laying one of the blankets down and pulling Hermione up after me. I spread the blanket over our legs and we lean back on some copper pipe that's warm. I think it had hot water running through it, so we're pretty much covered on the cold front. We didn't even use magic either.

Hermione passes me my food and we eat in silence for a little, watching the city of Paris in the dead of night. I try to count the street lamps I can see, but they all blur together after a while. I'm too tired to distinguish between them.

We finish eating after a while, but neither of us make any attempt to move. Hermione's head tilts and leans on my chest, like that day at the ministry. I hug her to me just like before, revelling in the comfort and warmth she brings with her.

"It's beautiful out here." Hermione murmurs.

"It really is." I agree, but it's not the sky I'm looking at. It's Hermione. It may be dark, but I can still see her perfect brown eyes, deep and enchanting.

"Fred, could I ask you something?" Hermione's tone shifts. Her voice is soft and unsure. It makes me half scared of what she might ask.

"Of course."

"If things were different... if there wasn't this stupid law... do you think you could ever see us becoming something. Something more." In the few seconds it takes Hermione to utter that question, my heart swells and the butterflies in my stomach take serious action.

"Hermione Jean Granger, you have no idea how much I wish we were something more." I tell her, completely sure of the words coming out of my mouth. This is what I've been dying to tell her for ages now. I almost can't believe this is happening. I feel like I'm in a dream.

"Then why can't we be?" Hermione asks. I now realize she's crying. I hold her tighter, stroking her hair gently. I feel awful. I feel so guilty for not telling her sooner and for letting her worry about it. I didn't think. I assumed she had her feelings more under control than I did.

"We could be. We can be," I correct myself. "Hermione, forget the law. It's close to being repealed anyway. We can just date. Plain and simple. Ignore the law, ignore everything. Just you and me." I sound like I'm begging, but I've opened up and there's no way to shut me up now.

"It's not that simple! We have to get engaged or the Ministry is going to do it for us, to people we might not even like. We have what – a month more? And then you're mother is going to fuss and your whole family. I..." Hermione pauses, pulling away from my chest and looking at me with those perfect eyes. "I want to be with you Fred, but how can we make that sort of commitment so soon?"

"Okay." I murmur, thinking so quickly that my head is beginning to spin. "Okay. Then we get engaged, but we our family it's just a front. We're just friends, trying to avoid the law. You can act heartbroken, as if you don't love me. I'll act annoyed at being tied down. Mum won't fuss, Ginny won't urge you for pointless details. We can date, pretending it's a front. It'll all work out, Hermione."

"And what about when the law is repealed?"

"We'll decide what to do when that happens. If you're unhappy, we break up. If you're happy, I get to be with you forever – whether we're married or not. I don't care, frankly. I just want you."

Hermione nods, smiling magnificently. "Okay. We'll do that. I want this to work out, Fred. I really do. You make me feel so happy, whenever I'm with you."

"You too, Granger. You too." I murmur and then I kiss her. It's a pretty good kiss, as far as kisses go. A lot of goes purely on adrenaline that I'm kissing the girl of my dreams after waiting for so long. But in reality, we're both exhausted and it's more a confirmation of our words then a dazzling first kiss.

"We should head back inside." She murmurs against my neck and I nod slowly, feeling a few droplets of rain beginning to fall.

The weather is no reflection of my feelings whatsoever. It may be dark and cold and rainy out here, but inside it's all sunshine and blue skies. I've never felt more overjoyed. And I know, in a few minutes time when I'm tucked up in bed just metres away from Hermione, I'll be thinking of her when I fall asleep.

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**1 – I'm so sorry for the wait! It turns out A-Levels make me want to cry all the time instead of writing :(**

**2 – I'm sorry this chapter is so short, I just wanted to get it out to you and at least it's finally become real Fremione. **

**3 – Thank you for the continuing support, I promise to try and keep up from now on.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello! Thank you for all the feedback and keep it coming, I really do try to pay attention to it :)**

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"Frederick Weasley, give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat you out of this house with a tea-towel or so help me-"

"Woah! Calm down, mother!" I yelp, ducking across the room to avoid the fatal glare of my mum. We've just arrived home from France, exhausted but completely overjoyed. I can't say I've ever really been in a long-term relationship before. Hell, I can't even honestly say I've been in a real relationship. Therefore, I don't really have a lot to go on – but a part of me knows that what I have with Hermione... it's real.

I mean, take this morning for instance. All we did was boring paperwork and meetings and queueing up in Ministries, trying to get home. Yet, Hermione Granger made it the most thrilling morning of my life. Just having her by my side was enough, but actually getting to hold her hand and talk to her all day -not just when the opportunity arose- well, it was perfect.

That's how I know that Hermione is the girl for me. I understand why she's still unsure. I do, I completely get it. I'm Ron's older brother. I'm the joker. I'm the only one left in this damn Marriage Law. But, overtime I'm pretty damn sure Hermione will see that I can be so much more. I'm in this for the long run. I don't care if we have to get married, or if we have to leave the country to avoid it. Whatever Hermione wants, I'll do my best to do.

"What on earth do you expect? Honestly, Fred. Yesterday you told us you were nipping to the ministry, you steal Hermione away and don't return until now!" Ginny inputs, sat at the Kitchen table. "Where is Hermione, by the way?" She adds, narrowing her eyes at me.

It's quite an understatement to say that I'm relieved Mum and Ginny are the only ones around. I take a deep, calming breath to hide my glee and sit at the end of the table. Mum copies my movement, still holding her tea-towel tightly as if ready to throw it at me. Mum, however, is the least of my worries; Gin has her wand.

"Alright, just listen for a minute and I'll tell you everything." I cough, feeling somewhat nervous at the women in my family's glares. "We did go to the Ministry last night... just not the British one. Hermione accompanied me to France to buy a new branch for the shop. It was kind of an impulse thing. She helped me out with the paperwork seeing as though Georgie couldn't make it."

Mum and Ginny seem to buy that, seeing as though it's true, but their eyes remain suspicious.

"We got back earlier and Hermione has a meeting with Kingsley. You know the campaigns against the Marriage Law that she's been involved with? Well, she's been granted an appeal. However, if that fails... then she'll be telling Kingsley that we've decided to get engaged." There. I say it with a shaky voice. I don't know why I'm so nervous. It may be because I'm scared they won't believe me. Or it may be that I don't believe myself. After all, everything has happened so quickly.

Most bizarrely, Mum and Ginny start whooping and cheering. They lean over the table to hug each other, Mum wiping tears from her eyes.

"Oh, congratulations dear. I'm so proud of you." She coos, clapping her hands together and holding them over her heart. A part of me wants to laugh, but I hold it back and shake my head exasperatedly.

"No! You've got it wrong. Neither of us _want_ to get married. It's just so Hermione doesn't have to leave the country! Nothing more than that." I tell them. It seems years of pranking experience couldn't prepare me for this. I'm pretty sure my face is bright pink and my voice is abnormally high. I try to calm myself down as I attempt to persuade my mother and sister of their mistake, but it doesn't work and they can both see very clearly that I'm lying.

"Did you really expect us to believe that, Fred?" Ginny howls with laughter and I fold my arms crossly.

"I'm not lying Ginny." I tell her stubbornly. I kind of want to persuade her now, simply to uphold my reputation.

"Oh yes you are." Mum declares, her face red with amusement. She too is laughing and I hate to be that guy, but I'm beginning to get annoyed. "I have always been able to tell when you're lying, Fred Weasley."

"Up until a few years ago, you couldn't even tell whether I was me!" I reply tetchily, and I'm met with yet more laughter.

"Ah, perhaps, but I can tell when George is lying too so it doesn't really matter." Mum tells me, a hint of mischievousness about her which sends Gin' howling again.

Just then, at what has to be the worst moment, Hermione arrives in the fireplace in a flash of green fire. Her eyes meet mine for a brief moment, before turning to my laughing family in confusion. I watch her quietly as she dumps her coat on a chair and sits down. Her eyes are wide and sparkling, confused by the situation she's just walked in on.

After a few seconds, Ginny's laughter dies down and silence falls on the table.

"Did you tell them?" Hermione asks softly, turning back to me.

I nod miserably, but don't reply in time to explain what's happened in her absence. Instead, Mum speaks up and for some reason, decides to be a lot more kind to her future maybe daughter in law.

"Fred did tell us, Hermione dear. But, you don't have to pretend with us. We've watched you two dancing around each other for weeks now. We knew this would happen sooner or later, law or no law."

If possible, Hermione's eyes widen further and I suppress a grin. "You did?" She asks, her voice a squeak. "What about everyone else?"

"They're all oblivious, of course." Ginny snorts, rolling her eyes.

"Oh, thank Merlin." Hermione breathes, reaching over the table for my hand. I take hers happily, but keeping quiet. This is Hermione's decision to make. I don't mind keeping it a secret until she works everything out. "Mrs Weasley, Ginny, I know this is an awful lot to ask... but do you think we could keep this a secret... at least for now?"

I look from Mum to Ginny to Hermione. The first two look confused, Hermione just looks nervous. I squeeze her hand a little and her attention flits to me. We exchange small smiles and she takes a deep breath, calming herself.

"Of course dear, but why?" Mum finally asks.

"It's just... I don't want to rush into anything. So, although we do have to plan a Wedding and everything... I'd really like to just date. Ignore the marriage even, until we really can't any more. I really don't want to hurt anyone, either. We, Fred and I, would like to try being something without lots of attention. That way, if it doesn't work out and I do have to leave, it won't cause as much hassle."

"I understand." Ginny murmurs, looking out the window. There's a vacant expression on her face but she's been paying very close attention. "If everyone thinks you're going to be part of our family and then you end up not being, it's going to sting like a bitch-" Ginny continues, ignoring the reproachful look from mum. "But if everyone thinks all along you might leave, people will get used to the idea and it won't hurt as much."

"Exactly." I state softly, moving my thumb in circles on Hermione's hand. It's a horrible though and frankly, it'll probably sting like a bitch either way. Still, Hermione's right. It's best not to get anyone's hopes up.

"Okay. So what can we do?" Ginny asks, finally looking back to us. Her eyes shine with determination and I'm reminded of why I love my little sister so much.

"Don't tell anyone we're engaged, would be the main thing." Hermione replies quietly. "But, I guess, if the law doesn't get repealed and we do end up having to marry before Christmas... then we'll need a last minute wedding."

"Don't you worry dear." Mum smiles, moving from her chair to hug Hermione. Hermione lets go of my hand to return the hug and my hand feels oddly empty. It's only been a day and I can't go a minute without her now. "We'll sort everything for you. You just focus on yourself. I've done enough Wedding's now to call in a few favours if need be."

Hermione pulls away, thanking mum brightly. She turns back to me and sighs, smiling softly. Everything is going to work out. I know it will.

* * *

(HERMIONE'S POV)

When I hear a knocking on the bedroom door, I know exactly who it is. I mean, the choices are somewhat narrow considering that the once packed Burrow now only houses Molly, Arthur, Fred and myself. Now, Arthur and Molly are downstairs preparing for the pending wedding. That only leaves Fred. I'm pretty sure it's him anyway, he's probably the only person who'd be allowed to ditch his twin brother on his wedding day.

"Oh, would you let me in before someone sees?" I hear through the door and I grin, breaking away from my thoughts. It is Fred.

I scramble to the door and open it quickly. Fred ducks into what used to be Ginny's room before she moved to Grimmauld Place. He kisses me quickly, a mischievous smile on his freckled face.

"I don't even _want_ to know what you've got planned for this wedding, Fred Weasley, but it better not upset Angelina and if _anything_ explodes you can full well answer to your mother." I tell him sternly, but the smile on my face betrays me. I've never been a very good liar, and I can't really see the point in pretending to be annoyed at Fred. For what feels like the first time in ages, I'm happy. My face actually hurts from smiling some nights.

It's been so easy spending time with Fred these past few days. With no-one else at the Burrow, we seem to have slipped into an almost natural routine. Still, last night Fred left for George's stag-do and now we're going to have to spend most of the day apart. We might get a dance or two in, but nothing like I'd want our first dance as a couple to be.

"I'm not scared of mum." Fred states, pouting slightly. "Much." He adds, seeing my sceptical look. "Besides, this is the most magnificent wedding of the one and only George Weasley. It's _got_ to be explosive, or else it's going to get lost in the mountain of other weddings going on."

I nod vaguely. The protests against the marriage law are working. In fact, with Kingsley against the law too the elder members of Wizegmot are beginning to rethink their decision. It normally takes a month for appeals to go through, so if all goes well this stupid law will be over by Christmas.

"As long as no-one gets hurt."

"Of course." Fred smiles dazzlingly at me. His eyes shine in the light from the open window. They're so god damn blue, it's infuriating. "Now, define no-one. Does that include Ron?"

I can't help but laugh, shaking my head. "You are forbidden from pranking Ron, Fred. For a start, Padma might kill you." I warn him, smiling still.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Anyway, I just stopped by to say hello. I have to go find George and sober him up and I might not get to see you properly tonight. So I just wanted to tell you that you're beautiful, Granger and I'm incredibly lucky."

I'll admit, I'm momentarily blinded by the compliment. "Fred, I'm in my pyjamas. I've not even washed yet." I giggle. In my defence, it is only early still.

"You're still beautiful. You might look hella hot tonight, but you'll always be beautiful." Fred kisses me off guard and then bounds out of the room, leaving me slightly breathless.

It takes me a moment before I race after him, my blush fading.

"What do you mean you need to _find_ George?!" I yell down the stairs. The only reply I get is a loud, deep laugh.

* * *

A fair few hours later, I finally exit the Burrow for George and Angelina's wedding. A few guests have already started arriving. I was made late by what I can only describe as hair with a mind of it's own. It took me hours to straighten it, even with magic!

"Took you long enough, Granger." I hear two voices exclaim from behind me. I turn to see Fred and George stood in the aisle, wearing bright blue dress robes. Not exactly traditional but very fitting for the occasion, it seems.

"Don't worry, they're charmed so Mum thinks they're black." George tells me, pulling his cuffs down with ease. I expected him to be in a worse shape considering Fred's words earlier this morning, but he seems fine. Not at all hungover or tired. Still, I guess that's magic for you.

"Clever." I smirk, though my gaze has now been attracted by Harry and Ron casting some charms around the garden. I watch them for a few moments, an odd sense of foreboding falling on me. I haven't really felt like this since the War. I feel a little lost without my little purple bag. It feels like the night of Bill and Fluer's wedding, when we had to leave so suddenly. I hope that doesn't happen this time.

"They won't try anything, Hermione. Don't worry, we're safe here." Fred murmurs to me, following my gaze. George wanders off somewhere and I know it's risky to be stood so close to Fred, but I try to take comfort from his presence.

"I know." I say, but I know I'm not convinced. I can feel my own heart racing. How many of these weddings will I have to sit through, petrified of some rogue Death Eaters. Well, I suppose it depends how today goes.

The garden begins to fill rapidly and Fred is forced to go find George again. I find my seat and very quickly, the procession begins. Angelina looks absolutely lovely in her wedding gown, and I'm not afraid to say that I cry during the ceremony.

It seems that nothing bad is going to happen as we near the end of the wedding, lulling most into a false sense of security. Fortunately, I'm not fooled. Fred turns to wink at me not a second before the red carpeted aisle leading to the bride and groom erupts into red rose petals. The petals burst high into the sky and then shower down on the seats, turning into red balloons before reaching our heads and then floating back up again.

The Bride and Groom kiss and then the balloons burst into confetti, over everyone's heads. It's quite spectacular, if a little more romantic then anticipated. Pulling confetti out of my hair, I grin at Fred. He's so full of surprises, he really is. I would never have expected a roses, balloons and confetti trio. I bet they'll be on the shelves of their store within the week.

The dancing and celebrations begin almost immediately. Champagne is passed around and I feel sort of lost, stood with Ginny and Harry trying not to look too lonely. Everyone is dancing and it's getting dark already, as it is winter. It's still warm, however, due to an increasing amount of heating charms.

"Care to dance?"

"People might see!" I protest, turning away from the 'occupied' Harry and Ginny to Fred, who's already taken hold of my hand to lead me to the crowded dance floor.

"I doubt it. Everyone's pissed. Besides, it's too dark to see any more."

Fred's excuses are flimsy, but I can't find the will to say no. So I grin and skip to the dance floor.

We dance for what feels like no time at all before it's completely dark and people are beginning to leave. I reluctantly pull away from Fred and we make our way to the Burrow. Before we enter the house, where Ron is now staying until his own darn wedding, Fred pulls me aside and kisses me fiercely.

"What was that for?" I ask, grinning brightly and somewhat dazed.

Fred shrugs, brushing my hair from my face. "I was right earlier. You look totally hot." He adds, smirking. I blush again against my will and he laughs that same deep laugh.

"Oh shut up." I roll my eyes, pulling him in for another kiss. Two can play at this game. I can make him blush just as much as he can make me! My hands curls into his lapels and he closes the space between us, pushing my back against the wall. It's cold against my back; a sharp contrast to my hot skin. The moment is unending and perfect and the kiss is, oh my- and we're just getting into it when -

"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Ronald screams.

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**I hope everyone had a very nice Christmas, or else just a nice December. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the wait. I thought I uploaded this a week ago. **

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_I __roll my eyes, pulling him in for another kiss. Two can play at this game. I can make him blush just as much as he can make me! My hands curls into his lapels and he closes the space between us, pushing my back against the wall. It's cold against my back; a sharp contrast to my hot skin. The moment is unending and perfect and the kiss is, oh my- and we're just getting into it when -_

"_WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!" Ronald screams. _

Fred pulls away immediately and our hands fall to our sides, but it's too late. I can't believe that Ron found out like this. It's not very fair on him at all. I guess we just had too much champagne and got caught up in the moment. Still, it's not like our relationship is forbidden. Ron has no right to be glaring at us like he is now.

"Ron, just take a moment to calm down." I tell him, my voice a little shakier than intended. I'm not scared of Ron. Not at all. But I've seen him when he's angry. His temper carries him to say plain nasty things and I'm so tired of forgiving him for being a git.

"Calm down?" Ron repeats, his tone incredulous and bitter. "Fuck that! I want to know why my brother went behind my back and snogged my best friend!"

A large part of me wants to slap Ron, for those words alone. But I restrain myself, because I know he's just overreacting. I turn to Fred and he gives me this odd look. His eyes meet mine for the longest of moments and he then turns to his brother.

"Because I love her." He says, in the softest voice I've ever heard him use. For a while, I don't really register what he's said. It's probably shock. But then I feel his hand slip into mine and my face lights up into a big smile.

"You love her?" Ron asks. It's clear he's calmed down a little now, but his eyes are still flitting from me to Fred wildly.

"The feeling is mutual, Ronald. And _need_ I remind you that you are getting married in a few weeks to a _lovely_ girl." I finally speak up.

Honestly, I'm somewhat confused by Ron's behaviour. I thought we'd established that neither of us liked each other. I know that Fred and I decided to keep our relationship a secret until we were sure of it, and I realize that it must have been a shock for Ron to find out like that- but really, I thought he'd grown up more than that.

"Yeah..." Ron sinks to the floor, placing his head in his hands. "I'm sorry. I was just shocked."

"You don't say?" Fred roles his eyes, tracing circles with his thumb on my hand. I love it when he does that.

We sit beside Ron, despite the fact the heating charms are wearing off and it's getting colder and colder.

"So... are you two, like, official?" Ron asks.

I look to Fred and he looks at me, shrugging a little. He's silently telling me that it's completely up to me and whatever I say goes, but I know that's not the case. Because, we love each other and that makes us a team. So maybe there is a stupid Marriage Law. I refuse to let that effect our relationship. It'll be abolished before we get married anyway, probably, so why can't we just be happy together.

"Yes. I think that sounds wonderful." I say and Fred smiles this magnificent smile that makes me feel all warm inside. I never thought I'd find someone that makes me so happy.

"Woah. Then... congratulations, I guess? Uh.. I'll just, leave you to your business then. Sorry for the err, interruption."

Ron promptly hurries away, still looking a little confused, and then I find myself sat out in the garden with the man I love. Isn't it odd how it feels so natural to think that. I, Hermione Jean Granger, am in love. With Fred Weasley!

"So... you, uh, you love me?" Fred asks, in a poor but amusing imitation of Ron's embarrassed state.

"Oh shut up!" I laugh, whacking his arm lightly. He catches it and pulls me close to him. I wrap my arms around his waist and he kisses my forehead gently. "Yes, I love you." I murmur. "I'm fed up of being scared of this stupid law. I want to be with you." I tell him, earnestly.

Fred replies by holding me tighter.

* * *

(FRED'S POV)

I don't often think about the past. I mean, what's the point? Most of it was pretty sucky, what with the war and everything. But if I think about my life now, compared to just a year ago, I think myself incredibly lucky.

Sure, some things are still rough. I still struggle to sleep sometimes. All my siblings are getting married because of some damn law. My twin and best friend is now married and properly living away from me for the first ever time, and my entire family is under the threat of some idiotic dark wizards who are hell-bent on revenge.

But now Hermione is there when I can't sleep, and Hermione refuses to let the law effect how she wants our lives to go. Hermione is my best friend and she helped kill Voldemort, so why should some pathetic death eaters deter her.

"Freddie? Any more nougat down there? The afternoon lot cleared us out?" George calls from upstairs. I hop off my stool and look around the basement, through the mountain of stock we keep down here. I pick up a box of the nosebleed nougat and heave it upstairs to the empty shop. We always close early on Tuesdays, because mum makes shepherd's pie, so it's only two o'clock now. Well, with a business as booming as ours we can afford some time off.

"We're running low, George. Might need to whiz up some more in the morning."

"Do what you have to do, brother." George grins at me, pulling down the blinds as he closes up the shop for the night.

"Is Angie coming tonight?" I ask my twin, unloading some of the nougat onto the the empty shelves. I'm reminded of how busy our shop actually gets when I see the aftermath of a days worth of shoppers. You'd think with all the kids in school, there'd be less demand, but now we're getting parents Christmas shopping.

"Yes." George says, pulling a grumpy face. "Which means tomorrow we have to visit Angie's parents. Which means no pranks, no jokes, no alcohol."

"And sleeping on the couch if you carry on." Angelina announces as she arrives, narrowing her eyes at George. I can't help but laugh at the look on George's face as he turns around and smiles cheesily.

"Hello darling, home so soon?" He asks and Angie grins, shaking her head.

"You bet. Shall I put the kettle on?"

Angie and George disappear into the staff kitchen and I'm left to stock the shelves. It's not a very interesting job, but it only takes a few minutes and then I'll be done and I can go home to Hermione.

I'm just about done when the door to the shop opens with a tinkle of the bell above. I turn and see Hermione, looking positively petrified with wide, brown eyes and shaky breaths. She immediately runs over to me and falls into my chest, gripping my back tightly. I wrap my arms around her because as much as I want to find out what happened, I know she can't say anything until she's calmed down.

"Sorry." She whispers. "I'm sorry, it's nothing."

We sit down behind the till and although we're sat apart, Hermione's hand clings tightly to mine. I want to know what's scared her so much now, because she's scaring me. This is my Hermione. She's strong. She survived the heart of a war. So why is she sat shaking?

"Clearly not, Hermione. Tell me what happened?"

Hermione looks up, shaking her head slightly. "Ginny wasn't lying." She said quietly. "Someone was following me today. I didn't see who, but I know they were there. I tried to ignore it but god, I was just scared and now I feel so stupid. After what happened in the ministry I should have known not to go out alone, I just didn't think." She rants and it gives me some time to think over her words.

"Hey! You're not stupid. You shouldn't have to think like you're still in the war, 'Mione. But from now on, we'll all be more careful. Harry and Ron are working hard to find out who this guy is, remember. We won't let anything bad happen again."

"I know. Of course I know that. I'm sorry, I'm fine now." She says, but I'm not entirely convinced. Hermione is so strong, but it's crap like this that brings back the memories she's fought so hard to get over. Besides, it's the last thing any of us need right now. It's a few days to Ron's wedding and that's going to be weird enough without being terrified of death eaters as well.

"Are you sure?"

Hermione nods vigorously as the kitchen door opens and George and Angelina re-enter the shop, carrying three steaming cups of tea. They both pause upon seeing Hermione.

"We thought we heard voices." Angelina states, handing me my tea which I immediately pass on to Hermione. She sips it gratefully and then passes it back to me.

"Everything alright?" George asks, concern evident in his voice. It's not like we have some magical twin power which allows us to talk silently, but a single look can convey a whole range of emotions so he knows that, no, everything is not alright.

"Yes, just an incident when I was out before. I'm sorry to intrude, I just came here instinctively." Hermione takes the tea from me again and cradles it in her hands for warmth. I don't know why she's apologizing for intruding. She's more than welcome here. Obviously, because I don't live here and Hermione doesn't really have that much need for joke products, she's not a regular here at the shop. However, the few occasions she's popped in for lunch have always been fantastic.

"You're not intruding, Hermione. You're always welcome here." Angelina tells Hermione, squeezing her hands reassuringly. "It's nice to have some female company."

"Tell me about it." Hermione giggles, regaining some colour in her cheeks the more tea she drinks. I watch her, marvelling at her strength yet again. If it were me, I'd probably be in a state of denial until I'd slept off the shock of being followed. But Hermione... she always finds a way to keep going, no matter what happens to her. "Years of putting up with Harry and Ron have exhausted me."

"I can imagine! And they get into tons more trouble than these two!" Angie laughs, nodding her head to George and I. George sticks his tongue out at his wife and I can't help but laugh.

"That sounds like a challenge, darling." He says smartly, earning himself a whack.

"Anyway, Hermione, what was this incident?" The subject gets changed promptly and George's protests fall silent, as Hermione explains her ordeal whilst out getting lunch. It sounds a lot like what happened to Ginny, which sucks because it means that it's not just Ginny or Harry being targeted as we might have first thought... it's all of them.

First Ginny, then Harry and Ron, now Hermione. How long until they target the Burrow, or Grimmauld Place? It's bloody annoying that we still have to think about these things. But there's more at stake now then just losing to Voldemort. This is about protecting the lives we've built in the aftermath of the war. This future that I have with Hermione, it's real and plausible and it could be for the rest of my life... as long as we stop whatever threats these morons are posing.

"We should head to the Burrow and see if your mother needs help cooking?" Angelina points out when all the tea's are gone and time has begun to slip away from us.

"Yeah, you're right. C'mon you, you can help peel the spuds. No magic." Hermione smiles at me, standing up and extending her hand to me. I take it, her smile infectious. We've been sat talking for an hour, which is probably the longest time the four of us have ever been alone together. I bet Hermione realizes this already, because after all she's wicked smart, but it means a lot to me that my brother and sister in law get along so well with my 'betrothed'. It just makes life seem that much brighter.

* * *

**Reviews make me smile.**

** They also make Fred and Hermione's relationship progress further. **


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm sorry for the wait. I'm sorry for this too. I hope you like it.**

* * *

A few days later, and we're dancing at yet another wedding. This time it's Ron and Padma's. I know I give my little brother a rough time, a lot of the time – because he's so damn annoying – but I can't help but feel proud of him. He looked all grown up and mature, but we all know he's still a big baby. I don't know how Padma will put up with him to be honest, but I guess we managed it for his whole life.

Hermione's been quiet all day, and I want to know why without having to ask her. It's not like she has feelings for Ron, considering she seems pretty content in my arms right now, but she's still acting odd and I'm pretty sure it's to do with the fact that he's gotten married.

My concerns remain firmly in my mind as we dance. It's a slow, calming song and as we move I look down at the woman in my arms. If someone had told me this time last year that I'd get to be with the woman I love, then I'd have thought _I_ was the one being pranked. But... here we are.

Hermione looks stunning too. She's wearing this long, light purple bridesmaid gown and it has these floaty sleeves with slits up to the shoulder. Sometimes, the fabric falls away and I see her 'Mudblood' scar from Bellatrix Lestrange. I guess she's finally become comfortable with it being out in the open. She doesn't even wear long sleeves all the time like she used to. I'm simultaneously heartened and in awe of this woman. Plus, _Merlin_, purple is definitely her colour. It makes her skin look heavenly and her figure is just perfect and I get to hold her as much as she'll let me.

"You know I can feel it when you stare at me." Hermione says, after an age of silence. She tilts her head against my chest and looks up at me, smiling lightly.

"Sorry. I can't help it, I can barely focus on anything but you." I tell her honestly, tracing circles between her shoulder blades.

"Smooth." Hermione smiles mischievously and I laugh, nodding.

"I do try." I tell her, rather happily. I have a range of jokes whizzing through my brain, but none of them seem appropriate right now. That's what I love about being with Hermione. She doesn't expect me to be the happy, comic prankster that everyone else does. She recognizes that the war was hard on me too. She can just be with me and be quietly content in just dancing all night to music that would bore Aunt Muriel. "I'm so lucky to have you, Hermione Granger."

"No, you're not. I'm lucky to have you. I love you, you know."

"The feelings mutual." I wink at her and we return to our dancing.

Hermione's hair smells so good, as always. Since Percy's wedding I've had a lot more time to think over that damnable scent. It's like cherries and hazelnuts and pecans and cedar. It smells of autumn and it's so very Hermione. I can't really think of another way to explain it. It's just lovely and I don't know how she does it, considering our shampoo is just plain. Anyway, her hair is straight for the occasion and she looks stunning.

When the song ends, Hermione leads me over to the drinks table and we grab a glass of champagne each. The night is still young but she looks at me, takes my hand and smiles.

"Would you like to move the party inside? It's a little chilly out here."

* * *

That night, when I roll onto my side in a wonderfully dozy state, I watch Hermione. She's asleep already, her chest rising and falling with steady breaths. I can't help but stare in wonder at this beautiful woman beside me. Her hair isn't quite as straight as it was earlier; it's rumpled and beginning to curl again. Her lips are swollen a little and without a doubt, I know she's the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

* * *

(HERMIONE'S POV)

When I wake up, it only takes a second for me to remember the grand memories of last night. Fred's arms are wrapped around me and I smile into his chest, content to stay like this forever.

"Good Morning." Fred murmurs and of course he's awake, he always wakes up early.

I tilt my head to look at him, but his eyes are closed. He looks so peaceful that I honestly do wish we could just stay here forever. Unfortunately, I have work this afternoon and I'm pretty sure Molly wondered where we disappeared to last night – thank merlin for locking charms.

"Very good morning." I reply gently, my fingers absently trailing down the scar on his chest. I remember how he got it and it's one of my worst memories, which is saying something considering I survived a war. That had been the first time we'd see Death Eaters and Fred had been there to protect me. I hadn't considered for a second that he might not make it out unscathed.

It was probably the worst thing I'd seen since watching Professor Lupin transform into a Werewolf – which at the time had been the most horrific thing I'd ever witnessed. But seeing Fred just collapse, after saving me, with blood streaming down his body... it frightened me more than anything. You think, what with being friends with Harry Potter, I'd have become immune to witnessing pain. But that was the first time I'd ever properly seen someone I cared for get hurt badly. Harry always seemed to escape everything by luck. But that night... Fred could have died.

"What are you thinking about?" Fred asks me, his eyes now open and fixed_ on me. _

"You." I reply honestly. "I love you." I tell him and he smiles, kissing my nose.

"I know. I love you too."

I return his smile, sliding out the bed and wrapping my dressing gown around me. Fred watches me from the bed, his eyelids still heavy with tiredness and, perhaps, something more.

"I'm going for a shower before your parents awake. You're quite welcome to join me."

* * *

(FRED'S POV)

It's not everyday that I manage to sleep in this late in the morning, even if it's still considerably earlier than most people, and there's not a shred of doubt in my mind that it's because of Hermione Granger. I suspected she'd solve all my problems in life the moment I realized I was in love with her, but never did I expect I'd sleep the whole night through. This morning I woke up with this big grin on my face and I got the privilege of just watching her sleep and holding her, knowing that nothing could spoil that moment.

And then Hermione woke up and the moment got even better. Man, I didn't think it was possible.

So now, I think it's fair to say that I'm quite possibly in the best mood a Weasley has ever been in.

"These will be for you two, dears." Mum says, as soon as some official Ministry owl shows up at the door bearing two letters. I guessed the second it arrived it would be for Hermione and I, considering we're the only 'kids' that live here and neither of us have reported to the Ministry yet regarding the marriage law.

"No kidding." I mutter, taking the letter off the table. Maybe the only thing that could spoil my good mood would be talk of marriage. I'm not gonna pretend that I wouldn't love to be married to Hermione, some day, but the more time I spend with her the more I realize the injustice of being forced to marry. I want things to be normal with Hermione.

I open the letter with a heavy heart, silently praying that Hermione's appeal has been accepted. Next to me, Hermione places her jam and toast down and opens her own letter. With a deep breath, we both begin reading.

_Dear Mr Frederick Weasley,_

_ It is my duty to remind you that the deadline for the 'Happiness Decree' is the 20th December of this year. A response to this letter with your chosen partner should be returned to the Ministry of Magic, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, at the soonest possible date. _

_Failure to comply with this law could result in a fine, imprisonment or, in extremes, banishment from the wizarding world. _

_Kind Regards, _

_ A . J. Finlay_

I throw my letter down on the table when I've finished with it. They haven't given the slightest indication that the Law may be repealed sooner rather than later. How many ignorant morons will get this letter this morning and then take drastic measures, because they think they have no other options left? What the ministry is doing is ridiculous.

Hermione finishes her letter a few minutes later than I do. Hers is longer, but she also reads it several times over before looking up with dark, furious eyes.

"Listen to this! The nerve of them, I can't believe it!" She fumes, holding her letter up with a grip that turns her knuckles white. If the situation wasn't so appalling, I'd probably laugh. "Just listen! '**Dear Miss Granger, It is my duty to inform you that your request for a repeal has been denied. ****Blah Blah Blah****... **Oh, here it is! **It is my personal opinion that, as a figure of importance and a role model to many, you should be complying with laws put in place for the benefit of the people.' **I mean, can you believe it!"

As it happens, I can't believe it. Admittedly, the relationship we've all had with the ministry has changed since Kingsley became Minister, but let's not forget that just a few years ago Harry was refusing to be a poster boy. What on earth makes them think that Hermione will just go along with this ridiculous law because she's a role model. If anything, that encourages her to stand up for her own beliefs more!

"Let's get in touch with Kingsley. Report the sender. They had no right to say that." I tell Hermione, half ready to floo directly to the Minister's office and demand an explanation. But Hermione just shakes her head dejectedly, shrugging a little as her anger dissipates.

"There's no point." She says with a sigh. "It doesn't matter really. The important thing is that there's no getting out of this. It looks like we're getting married, Fred."

Our eyes meet and I'm pretty sure my expression is identical to hers. Blank. I don't think it's really registered. I just assumed Hermione would find a way out of it, but now we're stuck.

"We should set a date." I respond thickly, before adding. "Mum will need to plan it."

Hermione nods, chewing her lip in thought. "December. After Harry and Ginny's. I don't mind really. I don't want it to be anything big or... Oh god, I'll have to tell my parents."

Now I feel something more than shock, primarily in the form of nervousness. It's hard enough meeting a girl's folks without having to tell them you're marrying said girl when she's barely left school. I don't think they'll quite understand why we're having to do this. They've already found Hermione a job in Australia if she wants to leave the wizarding world. What if they encourage her to leave? She won't... she wouldn't leave me... would she?

"Don't look so worried." Hermione laughs lightly, taking hold of my hand. "They'll love you as much as I do." She smiles and my world seems a little brighter. It always does when she smiles.

"I hope not in the same way." I reply, mischievously and Hermione whacks my chest. It occurs to me that I'm going to have to find a place for us to live, whether we get married or not. So, with a slightly less scary goal of finding a flat, I pick up the paper and begin looking. Hermione curls up at my side and I imagine us doing this in our own place. It's a nice thought. Something I definitely wouldn't say no to. Who'd have thought I, Fred Weasley, would actually look forward to settling down with the girl of his dreams?

* * *

A week later, Hermione and I have been to see three houses and 2 flats. We've found a great place in London. It's close to the shop and to Mungo's, it has a second drawing room which Hermione plans to turn into her own miniature Library and it's a wizard building so magic is allowed. It's rather perfect, actually.

We'll be able to move in right after the wedding too, which is good I suppose. With the exception of mum and dad, the past month or so has been like living with Hermione anyway so I can't imagine it will be that different.

It's the 1st of December today and, so everyone keeps telling me, a very special day. Today is the day that my baby sister turns from Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley to Mrs Ginny Potter. George and I have seen this coming for years and frankly, without even the prospect of pulling a good prank, I'm not looking forward to it much. I've been to so many weddings recently that I could just remember one of the others and put Ginny's face where the bride's should be.

Then again, I suppose it is my only sister's only wedding. I've agreed to behave, albeit reluctantly. And it's not just because of the many threats and warnings from both Ginny and Mum, there's something more now. I think it's that Hermione and I are marrying in just a fortnight, which is monumental. I'm not upset about it; I'm excited. But I still have that numb sense of shock that I'm actually getting married, to Hermione Granger at that. I think I'm more nervous about being a husband than anything, but if my little sister can get married then so can I. I'm not that immature.

"Are you brooding, Mr Weasley?" I turn to see Hermione entering the kitchen. She looks stunning, in a cream halter neck dress and her hair all curly down to the small of her back. The wedding isn't for another hour, so I'm barely ready. I still need my outer robes, tie, flower, shoes and hair sorting. "That's very unlike you." She smiles, but I can still see that flicker of worry in those deep brown eyes.

"I wouldn't say brooding." I reply. I drain the rest of my coffee quickly and stand, depositing the cup in the sink. "More... pondering, Mrs Weasley to be." I can't help but grin then. Mrs Hermione Weasley. I like the sound of that.

"Pondering, eh?" Hermione arches an eyebrow and I wrap my arms around her waist. She's taller than normal because she's wearing heels. "What would you be pondering on a morning like this?"

"How exceptionally gorgeous my fiancée is." I tell her promptly and kiss her soundly. It's with a great deal of reluctance that I pull away, smirking a little at the look on her face.

"Well, we're clearly not in the same boat." Hermione says as payback. I display a look of mock hurt.

"You wound me, 'Mione!"

"Good." She grins. I bloody love this woman. "Go and get ready. Ginny's going to throw a fit in a minute."

"No change there then. Good luck to Harry." I wink and saunter out of the room.

An hour later, and the wedding is about to commence. Harry is stood at the end of the garden looking white as the snow around us, Ron by his side. The garden has never been so packed in all the weddings we've ever had here. Harry and Ginny have more friends than the rest of us put together, it seems, so we're at breaking point. Hermione and I decided that for our wedding, it's close family and friends. No-one more. Ginny, apparently, wanted the biggest wedding of the century. It's understandable though, she is becoming a Potter.

When the music begins, something classical that I would never admit out loud in a million years was nice, George and Angelina are the first to walk down the aisle. They make a damn good couple and I've never seen George happier if I'm honest, which is not something a twin likes to acknowledge.

Hermione and I then follow, and I get this surge of pride to be holding the arm of this beautiful woman. My Hermione. To think that this time a few months ago I would never have contemplated marriage in a thousand years. I guess that's what love is.

When we reach the front, Hermione move to Harry's side and I to Ginny's. We're still for merely a second before Ginny begins to walk down the aisle. I can't believe this is my baby sister. I remember when she was born. I was a little kid and I thought she was the grossest, most annoying thing ever. George and I kept to ourselves mostly. But when she was a baby, this one time, Ron made her cry. I can't remember what he did, but that was when George and I fell for our little sister. I hope we've been good brothers to her.

My eyes flick to George and I know he's thinking the same thing.

I don't think Harry even blinks as he watches her approaching him. She looks stunning, of course, but a part of me worries that if he doesn't breathe soon he might faint.

Luckily, Ginny reaches the front before he loses it and the ceremony begins.

And it NEVER ends.

I feel like we've been sat here for hours.

Even the ceremony conductor, a small, chubby man, looks bored as hell. He's reading at the speed of lightening, trying to get it all done. If it wasn't for the songs or the god damn self-written vows, this could have ended an hour ago. Ginny tried, rather unsuccessfully, to combine a muggle and magical ceremony to represent Harry's upbringing. I haven't the slightest clue why and I no longer care. I just want to sleep.

Just as I'm beginning to hear the snores of Aunt Muriel in the row behind me, the long and winding speech about love from the conductor is interrupted. He stops suddenly and begins to cough.

"Could I get a drink?" He asks loudly, looking around for his bag.

I turn to George, confused. He shakes his head a little, indicating he hasn't done anything to the man. He must just be thirsty then.

"Looking for this?" Harry asks, holding up the man's bag with dark, furious eyes. Harry rummages in it, then pulls out a flask. He opens the cap and sniffs it, then pours it onto the ground heartlessly. "Polyjuice potion." He explains briefly and in less than a second, every single guest in the crowd -save for Muriel who is still snoring contently- has their wand out and pointed at the man. "Did you really think we wouldn't be prepared? My colleagues found our actual Minister wandering aimlessly in Otter St. Catchpole early this morning. We knew you were coming. We just had to wait."

Bloody hell. That information would have been useful before we all sat down.

The man looks vicious and then his face bubbles magnificently. We've not used polyjuice potion in ages, I forgot how disgusting it is. The man lifts his arm to cover his face.

Then, the world goes black.

The bastard threw down some of our Peruvian instant darkness powder. Who the hell have we been selling to?

Lots of people scream in the darkness and I conjure a shield around our entire row -just in case.

When the darkness fades, I'm faced with a scene from my worst nightmares. The imposter is Rodolphus Lestrange, looking almost as demented as his wife had been. In his grip are Ginny and Hermione. I stand up, my heart racing. I simultaneously feel sick to my stomach and enraged.

Rodolphus is cornered, but as long as he has my sister and my fiancée there's very little we can do. They are his human shields and his wand is on them.

"Let them go, Lestrange!" Harry yells. Anyone can hear the panic in his voice. He clearly wasn't expecting this to happen.

"Right you are, Potter," Lestrange smiles this twisted grin, his teeth rotting, and makes to push the women away. He yanks them back in at the last second and laughs at the small squeak of surprise that leaves Ginny.

"Why are you doing this? The war is over; Voldemort is dead. You have no chance." Kingsley says, emerging from the seating. People are staring in horror. But really, this is the wedding of Harry Potter. What did anyone expect? Apparently Harry can't survive without a little mayhem in his life. I take back what I said earlier, it's Ginny that needs the good luck.

"The war is never over. Not until Potter is dead too." Rodolphus snarls. "You 'good guys' took everything from me. My life, my status, my wife." His eyes fall on mum then, and we all grip our wands a little tighter. Not that we need to. Mum wiped the floor with Bellatrix, I'm sure she could manage Rodolphus too.

"So now I'm going to take my wife's murderers daughter in laws. She how she likes the pain. And when they're dead, I'm come back for the rest."

I notice George gripping Angelina's hand a little tighter. Ron looks to Padma, and I'm sure Bill and Fluer stand a little closer but I can't really tell.

All I can see for sure is Hermione and the small smirk playing on her lips. For a brief second, I think she's just smiling nervously or trying to reassure me that she's alright. But then her eyes sparkle and I grin. She has a plan. My Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of her age alright.

I notice immediately when Ginny's arm shifts. Her face lights up in a bright smile, radiant on her wedding day. Then her elbow slams down into Rodolphus' stomach and he doubles up in pain. Hermione twists and snaps his wand in two. Then, both the girls wrap a foot around his ankle and pull him over with apparent ease.

Rodolphus hits the floor with a loud 'OOF' and Ginny and Hermione get away scot free. They extract their wands from under their dresses as George and I, Harry, Ron, Bill, Kingsley and Charlie surround Rodolphus on the floor. They join us and Hermione takes my hand tightly, somewhat pink in the face from the effort of knocking him over.

"We fought a god-damn war, do you really think we didn't pick up a few tricks?" she asks Lestrange who simply grunts in pain.

"I bloody love you Hermione Jean Granger." I grin.

* * *

I don't reckon there has every been a period of time so hectic for anyone as the past few months have been for me.

It's Christmas Eve and we're all sat in the living room, and I mean ALL of us, doing very little but eat and drink and talk. The newly wed Harry and Ginny Potter are playing with Teddy in the corner and various other people are having their own conversations.

But I can't take my eyes off my Hermione. She's sat beside me, my arm wrapped around her shoulder. My Hermione Granger.

The morning of our marriage, we got an owl from Kingsley. It read 'Marriage Law revoked, merry early Christmas.' Hermione and I sort of looked at each other when we got it. Everything we had to adjust for in the past few months was just out of the window. Except it wasn't, because I learnt more about who I am by falling in love with Hermione Granger than I ever would have done alone.

We shrugged at each other after reading it and then we got married anyway. Because, after all, we're in love, and now I'm the happiest I've ever been in my life. Even George admitted it, and that's not the sort of thing a twin likes to acknowledge.

It seems sort of weird to think that this Christmas is going to be an average, good old Family Christmas. This year has been a blur of everything and anything imaginable. I never thought at the end of it I'd be sat in my childhood home with the woman I love, watching my entire and now extended family talk happily.

But, I suppose, this is what everything was leading to. The war, the pain, the nightmares, the sleeplessness, the anxiety, the living hell. It's all been worth it in the end. And now we get to do all the rest of that dumb, boring stuff that I swore I'd never do. Only, I know with Hermione Weasley by my side, it won't be that boring. It'll actually be great.

* * *

_Once again, **I'm sorry. **I really lost where I wanted to go with this story, despite my highly detailed plan. You wouldn't have thought I had a plan, would you._

_I really didn't want this to be resolved so easily, but I figured - the War is over, they've all learnt a lot, Lestrange has been on the run and so weaker than he would have been. Let's let Hermione and Ginny kick ass. _

Thank you to all who reviewed, I'll take all the advice with me wherever I go next xoxo


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